I just have to share this link to Momastery. First, I feel I should tell you Momastery is pronounced like monastery, not mom-mastery, like I originally thought; that assumption made me shy away from her blog at first because I thought anyone who would name their bog Mom[m]astery was a bit presumptuous. I find that really funny now.
Anyway, before I rattle on and take up too much time, let me share this link. I hope you'll read it.
Hard to read, huh?
It made me think of a boy in my elementary school. Jerry. No one wanted to talk to him or be close to him. He didn't have nice clothes, and the clothes he had were rarely clean. He never smelled very good and he talked with a lisp. Everyone teased him. For years. And one day, in the sixth grade, at lunch, all the people around me were teasing Jerry and nearly the whole table was laughing. I guess Jerry had had enough, so he told Mrs. Jones. After lunch, Mrs. Jones started pulling students out of the room one at a time to question them. She asked us who was teasing Jerry. Then she asked each of us if we were one of the ones teasing him and laughing at him. When she asked me, I didn't answer. Mrs. Jones finally said, "Melissa said you weren't. So, were you?" I shook my head no. Which was true; I didn't say any of the mean things to Jerry that the other kids were saying. But the reason I hesitated to answer Mrs. Jones was because I knew what the kids were doing was wrong and still I didn't say anything to the teasers. So, I felt just as guilty. He needed an advocate. And he had none. God prompted me to speak up and fear kept my mouth closed. I have never forgotten that day. Never.
I don't want my girls to have any regrets. May their compassion always over-ride their fears.