You Know My Son
By Lorie St.Amand
you know my child.
may have met him at a playground, in a classroom, on a soccer team.
the one that you notice first –
for his obvious beauty or his brilliant smile (which he does have)
for his energy,
the child you stare at in disbelief and say "Wonder who HIS parents
the child you roll your eyes at and think; "Someone needs a spanking."
the child you tell the teacher, the coach, the group leader that you don't want
YOUR perfect child sitting near.
the child you wish weren't in your child's group or even in your class.
perhaps you know my child.
then, perhaps you don't.
turn your head before you ever saw the tears and pain in his eyes
you drag your child away from him saying, "don't play with THAT boy."
haven't sat with him for hours as he raged against you, the world, his toys, his
cuddled with you for hours afterwards as confused about his behavior as you are.
haven't seen him walk in from school with shoulders down and head drooped saying
"I didn't get invited to the party," with adult resignation.
You haven't watched him secretly as he gently clasped a butterfly to his cheek to feel its wings flutter softly.
haven't heard him whisper prayers to God to help him be a "good boy and to
stop being bad".
- I'm sure you've met my child along the way.
I don't think you really KNOW him.