I’m sitting in the lobby, reading.  Part of me notices a boy come in, perhaps 8 or 9 years old.  He gets a soda from the machine, hangs around a bit.  A few minutes later a woman is there, berating him, saying that he “was rushing”, really laying in to him.  I guess maybe he had the nerve to go and get her from the porch a few steps away.  She goes over to the soda machine, he has the nerve to stand between her and the machine.  She continues to lay in to him, in a tone of voice as if she just can’t believe how horrible a child he is.  My heart goes out to him.  I have no idea if he said something that I couldn’t hear, or did something.  My view was partially obscured by her, I could only see part of his profile.  Suddenly she smacks the back of his head, and I see droplets of soda flying, as if he had just taken a drink and hadn’t yet had a chance to swallow it.  She didn’t swat him all that hard, but I was still shocked. 

“Hey, lighten up.”  I told her.  Unsurprisingly, she told me to mind my own business.  She says something about it being *her* kid, and I replied something along the lines that it doesn’t make him property that makes it OK to hit him, and I care about ALL children. We bantered back and forth a bit more, and I looked directly at the boy and said, “You don’t deserve to be hit.  No matter what you said or did.”  The Mom and I continued to go back and forth a bit, her telling me not to talk to her, me saying I’ll talk to whomever I want to and if she didn’t like it to walk away.  She said she tried to walk away, she “has to” be here in the lobby.  I replied “You *choose* to be here.” After that her arguments became less attacking, and eventually she gave up when it was obvious that I would calmly (outwardly at least) respond to anything she threw at me. I remained seated throughout the entire exchange, as she moved closer or further away from me as she chose. Eventually, she gave up, thinking she had the last word when she said something that was devoid of attack enough that I didn’t feel the need to respond. I resumed reading my book.  I later heard her complain to the front desk person about the machine taking her money and me saying something to her, but although the secretary came out to check the machine, she didn’t say anything to me.

They sat down and waited to be called back. The one time I looked at her she was staring at me with daggers as if she was daring me to say something else, but I ignored the challenge.  I just made a point from then on of keeping an eye not just on her, but pointedly looking up from my book and briefly noting anyone that entered or left the lobby area, but saying nothing. Her son sneezed a few times.  I politely said “Bless You” each time, and after the third time, a gentleman that had not been in the lobby at the time of the altercation said something to me about how everybody has a cold right now.  We had an amicable exchange, and neither the boy nor his Mother said anything.  Eventually, they left the lobby area.

It was then, after they left and the lobby was relatively empty, that it started to get to me.  Of course I was scared as hell during the confrontation and was very glad to be sitting so maybe she wouldn’t notice that I was shaking, but it got much worse after they left.  I felt so sad for the boy.  He had been so sweet, eagerly trying to show his Mom how to make the soda machine take her money (when it wasn’t) and she had just been essentially telling him how stupid he was for trying to help.  After she had hit him he had almost started to cry, and she had said something along the lines of the old “I’ll give you something to cry about.”  And that’s when I had spoken up and said something.  I also felt deeply for her.  Any parent can attest to sometimes just being overwhelmed, having a horrible day, and you end up taking it out on a child that you love dearly and doesn’t deserve it.  No parent is perfect, and I only saw such a brief glimpse of her as a parent, certainly not enough to judge her, as I’m sure she presumed I was doing. 

After she left I replayed the incident through my head, thinking what I could have done differently… done better.  I should have been more empathetic to her, shown her that I understood the strain of parenthood, instead of “attacking” her. What if by speaking up I had made the situation worse, and she would later beat him for her “humiliation?”  My only hope was that when I had spoken directly to him, hopefully that would help him, to know that someone believed in him, someone believed that he is worthy of respect.  As the lobby was now empty I couldn’t help the tears, crying with sadness over the situation and praying that I had done the right thing, or at least not made the situation worse in my attempt to help.  I ask that if you pray, if you would be willing to pray for this family also, as every family has its challenges.  Parenting can be the hardest thing, and the most important thing, in the world. Hopefully my speaking up will help support the boy AND the mother.