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On the Playground

© Rachael Smith

All mothers worry whether or not their children are accepted at school. All mothers worry that their child may be the target of the school bully. Most mothers get over it. I doubt I ever will.

I suppose some secret put away part of me knew that some children could and would target my daughter because she's different. The loud, in control part of me absolutely refused to believe it - that is, until today.

I've already told of the day I saw my daughter being warmly greeted by a group of little girls and how it reduced me to tears. It's a good thing I saw that first, because what I saw today also reduced me to tears, but for an entirely different reason. It wasn't a big thing, not in the grand scheme of things. But for me it was the introduction to the kind of path that will run parallel to my daughter for the rest of her life.

I don't know what he said because I was too far away, but my daughter's reaction to the little boy in the yellow and black jacket nearly broke my heart in two. I had lingered to watch her after walking her to the playground because I didn't see the aide anywhere. I watched her bouncing along in her little pink coat, wearing a smile a mile wide. For whatever reason, she stopped and stood there, alone, just looking around, and then he moved in.

He leaned over and said something strong enough to make his head jerk back and forth and I watched as my little girl dropped her gaze to the ground and slumped her shoulders. He walked away grinning and it was clear that whatever he had said hurt her feelings. Everything in me wanted to run to her and comfort her. I also had to fight the overwhelming urge to smack the little monster, but somehow I managed to hold my ground.

I stood there shaking with anger and pain and watched as three little girls came up to her, obviously concerned. A tear slid down my cheek as I watched my little girl throw herself into the arms of another little girl. Within moments she was smiling again and soon was even off and running around with these same girls. Unfortunately, I wasn't as quick to recover.

All along I knew that there would be children that would tease and torment my daughter. I knew it and still I denied it to myself. In five minutes time, my little bubble of security had been burst and I had no one to blame for the pain I felt but myself.

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