My mom had been called to school.  I was in the principal's office.  The mud in my hair and all over my clothes told anyone that I had not had a good day.   

  Another child was in the room too.  He also was covered with mud, but his was mostly around his mouth and on his face.

  The meeting would have gone a lot easier if my mommy had not slipped into a mud puddle on the way into the building.  She arrived with mud on the lower part of her clothes and handbag.  She had stopped off at the restroom to grab some paper towels to wipe as best she could.  She came rushing into the room.

  The mother of the little boy started the conversation, "Well, we can see who she is related to can't we.  She looks like a monkey too."

 "That is not called for Ms. Pendleton.  There will be no name calling in this office."  Mr. Buttery, the principal, was on his feet.  He grabbed a chair for my mommy and signaled for Ms. Pendleton to also be seated.

  I jumped up and pointed to the little boy.  "He is the one calling people names.  I am not a monkey.  I am a little girl.  I am Jane not Cheata."  I then looked at his mother and made a statement.  I pointed to the boy's mother, "You are just as nasty as your son.  My mommy is beautiful, she is not a monkey."

  My mommy stood up and waved her hands.   She gave me a very stern look.  "Can someone, and only one person, please tell me what happened?"

  Mr.  Buttery suddenly stood up and said, "I would be glad to dear."  Then he motioned for everyone to once again be seated.  I think Mr. Buttery was impressed with my mommy's beauty.  He began to relate what had lead us all here. "It seems that Jack here was teasing Jane about her name.  He is a big fan of Tarzan.  He said Jane looked more like a monkey than a girl and pulled her down in the mud by her pony tail.  When she got up she had a hand full of mud and tried to make him eat it.  Our teacher on the play ground had to go home because she too was covered in mud by the time she separated the kids."

  My mommy was so pretty even with mud on her shoes, and handbag.  She had a soft but firm voice.  Her manner was pure lady all the way.  "So, this whole thing started because Jack thought it would be all right to put a label on a little girl?"

  My mother then turned to Jack's mother and said, "I am so sorry that my child did not understand that your child was being trained to be unkind and hateful to others.  She ment no harm.  She has been taught to be kind and to help others."

  She then turned to Mr. Buttery, "Your professionalism, sir, is appreciated.  I am going to take my little girl home now and try to help her understand that I am proud that she took up for herself, but especially against a bully.  I will also tell her to do it again if it happens again."

  She turned once more to Jacks mother and shook her head.  "Your son has learned from you very well.  You should be proud that there is another name caller in the world.  We now have another label maker, another bully."

  My mother took my hand and we left the office and went home.  I glanced back and saw Jack and his mom looking down at the floor.  I wondered if they were angry with me or my mom?  Maybe they just might have actually understood why I did what I did.  It was a quiet ride home until we pulled in the driveway.  "So, how much mud did you make him eat?"  I grinned at my mom and she started laughing.  She and grandmother laughed about it the whole time I was being scrubbed.  I look like a sweet little girl again by morning.

  Children copy what they see and hear.  During the entire time I was being scrubbed niether my grandmother or my mom called Jack or his mom a name.  Grandmother referred to her as a poor dear who was just a young mother who did not know better.  Mommy agreed with Grandmother.  I realized that they both did not just say it, they lived it.

  The best part happened in the following days at school.  Jack did not call anyone a name again.  At first I thought he was afraid of me.  But, I saw him stop a kid and tie his shoelace so he would not trip and fall.

  He started coping things I did.  We both helped the teacher and kept a watch for the younger kids on the playground.  He became a very nice little boy who enjoyed helping other people.

  His mom sent a very nice card home to my mom that said she was sorry for her actions.  I guess kindness does work afterall.

Tags: Memories