“WANT TO GET HURT AH!”
He snarled at my children, aged five and three, as we stood behind him – too close, according to him – in queue at a hawker centre.
“Excuse me,” I said in an even tone. “If you have anything you’d like to say, please tell it to me, and not my children.”
“YOU! I TELLING YOU! YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO TAKE CARE YOUR CHILDREN!”
My face burned. I took a deep breath. He walked away.
“It’s okay, children – we don’t have to react to everything.”
I thought about what it meant to model self-control. I made a choice.
I walked back, hot soup in hand. I shared what happened with my husband, Cliff, our all-time harmony man.
I watched in fear and awe as Cliff got out of his seat. “He was being disrespectful to you. I’m going over.”
“No no, I’m fine.” But he was gone.
This was a first for Cliff.
My heart raced.
“Pray, Mama,” my five-year-old said. “Got to pray for Papa.”
“Oh yes, we do,” I whispered. I watched, feet locked, fearing fists might fly.
A brisk exchange of words. Then, to my relief, Cliff walked back.
“What happened?”
“I asked him what he said to my kids. And to you. He said ‘NOTHING!’ I told him that you know how to be a good mother, and it’s not his place to tell you how to be one.”
My tears welled up.
For the first time, I understood the paradox of turning the other cheek. While I had chosen not to return evil for evil, my husband had risen to his role as protector to defend me. What he’d displayed was not tit-for-tat, but a courageous standing up for his wife and children.
“I will never forget this moment,” I said, holding back tears.
***
Read full article here: https://www.kitedreams.org/article-collection/what-i-learnt-from-a-bully