Remembering

An incident in my niece Laura's life, posted on her blog site, reminded me of an incident that happened when Staci was doing piano competitions in the forms of music theory tests, playing before the judges, etc.

Staci was probably 10-12, and we were at Collin County Community College (CCCC) where they have a large atrium with benches and a water pool with live plants. It is a peaceful setting, and this Saturday afternoon in Feb. or Mar. there were lots of mothers and children around the area. Staci was not with me, so I think she may have been taking the music theory exam. I was waiting in the front area with all the other moms and their younger children.

I noticed one little boy, about 4-5 years old, standing on the two foot wide deck between two pools of water. These pools were only a couple of feet deep with clear, clean water, and lots of pennies. Overhanging the pools were large ficus trees, and other living plants. The little boy was reaching up, standing on tiptoe, pulling leaves from the plants, and throwing them into the water. When I observed this at first, he already had thrown about twenty leaves in the water. With each reach up to the plant, he would teeter and wobble, and with each handful of leaves he pulled off and threw in the water, he would have to reach higher the next time.

I looked around for a mother who might be his, but there were lots of moms and kids, but no mother appeared to be watching out for this little boy. I went as close to him as I could get, without getting on the ledge with him, and called to him: "Little boy. Can you come over here for a minute?" I must have sounded enticing enough, because he stopped pulling the leaves off, and turned and came back to the floor, jumping down. I said to him: "Thank you for coming off that scary ledge. I was afraid you were going to fall in, and the pool was getting too many leaves it it. The leaves will plug up the drains."

Then, suddenly, I realized that there was one angry and mad mother in my face. So close that the spit from her angry words hit me on my face: "What are you doing to my child!" And she went on and on, not listening to me as I tried to explain that her son was almost falling in the pool, or throwing leaves into the water, and that I was trying to protect him from harm.

I told her that I was sorry I scared her, but I was trying to help her. She totally ignored my apology and left with her son, but not before this comment: "I am the only person who tells my son what he can and can not do. "

With a pit in the stomach and thoughts racing through my head, I retraced my actions in my mind. What should I have done differently? Done nothing? Turned and walked away? Probably all of that. What could I have said to her that she might have listened?

But what bothered me more than anything was her last comment. I knew she would not be the only person who would tell her son what to do. What kind of attitude would the son grow to have if his mother was the only one he should listen to. Probably the kind of son that would talk back to his teachers, defy authority of any kind, etc. So he would become the rude student that I encounter when I substitute teach in secondary level classes. But those stories, of rude students, can be another post, another time.

Back to lessons learned: I try to mind my own business, but my nature is to help people, so I still do that, but assess the situation more before I say or do anything, and try to be positive in my interaction with the person/persons. It doesn't always work out, but I have had happier helpings than negative experiences since then.