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He stood among his friends from school,
He joined their
childhood games
Laughing as they played kickball
And when they called
poor Sarah names.
Sarah was unlike the rest;
She was slow and not as
smart,
And it would seem to all his friends
She was born without a heart
And so he gladly joined their fun
Of making Sarah cry.
But somewhere
deep within his heart,
He never knew just why
For he could hear his
mother's voice,
Her lessons of right and wrong
Playing over and over
inside his head
Just like a favorite song.
"Treat others with respect,
son,
The way you'd want them treating you.
And remember, when you hurt
others,
Someday, someone might hurt you."
He knew his mother wouldn't
understand
The purpose of their game
Of teasing Sarah, who made them
laugh
As her own tears fell like rain.
The funny faces that she made
And the way she'd stomp her feet
Whenever they mocked the way she walked
Or the stutter when she'd speak.
To him she must deserve it
Because
she never tried to hide.
And if she truly wanted to be left alone,
Then
she should stay inside.
But every day she'd do the same:
She'd come
outside to play,
And stand there, tears upon her face,
Too upset to run
away.
The game would soon be over.
As tears dropped from her eyes,
For the purpose of their fun
Was making Sarah cry.
It was nearly two
whole months
He hadn't seen his friends.
He was certain they all must
wonder
What happened and where he'd been
So he felt a little nervous
As he limped his way to class.
He hoped no one would notice,
He
prayed no one would ask
About that awful day:
The day his bike met with
a car,
Leaving him with a dreadful limp
And a jagged-looking scar.
So he held his breath a little
As he hobbled into the room,
Where
inside he saw a "Welcome Back" banner
And lots of red balloons.
He felt
a smile cross his face
As his friends all smiled, too
And he couldn't
wait to play outside-
His favorite thing to do.
So the second that he
stepped outdoors
And saw his friends all waiting there,
He expected a
few pats on the back-
Instead, they all stood back and stared.
He felt
his face grow hotter
As he limped to join their side
To play a game of
kickball
And of making Sarah cry.
An awkward smile crossed his face
When he heard somebody laugh
And heard the words, "Hey freak,
Where'd you get that ugly mask?"
He turned expecting Sarah,
But
Sarah could not be seen.
It was the scar upon his own face
That caused
such words so mean.
He joined in their growing laughter,
Trying hard to
not give in
To the awful urge inside to cry
Or the quivering of his
chin.
They are only teasing
He made himself believe.
They
are still my friends;
They'd never think of hurting me.
But
the cruel remarks continued
About the scar and then his limp.
And he
knew if he shed a single tear
They'd label him a wimp.
And so the
hurtful words went on,
And in his heart he wondered why.
But he knows
without a doubt
The game would never end, until they made him cry.
And
just when a tear had formed,
He heard a voice speak out from behind.
"Leave him alone you bullies,
Because he's a friend of mine".
He
turned to see poor Sarah,
Determination on her face,
Sticking up for one
of her own tormentors
And willing to take his place.
And when his
friends did just that,
Trying their best to make poor Sarah cry,
This
time he didn't join in,
And at last understood exactly why.
"Treat
others with respect, son,
The way you'd want them treating you.
And
remember, when you hurt others,
Someday, someone might hurt you."
It
took a lot of courage
But he knew he must be strong,
For at last he saw
the difference
Between what's right and wrong.
And Sarah didn't seem so
weird.
Through his understanding eyes.
Now he knew he'd never play again
The game of making Sarah cry.
It took several days of teasing
And
razzing from his friends,
But when they saw his strength,
They chose to
be like him.
And now out on the playground,
A group of kids meets every
day
For a game of kickball and laughter
And teaching their new friend,
Sarah, how to play.
by Cheryl L. Costello-Forshey
from Chicken Soup for the
Teen's Soul II
Copyright 1998 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen and
Patty Hansen