This story is about Joe, his Grandmother and a bully teacher at the school where Joe goes to. A gym teacher who
detests Joe because of his long hair attitude and status in the society of high school life. Joe hung around some football
players and the teacher didn’t like it. Joe himself wasn’t a football player. The teacher also had a vindictive
look in his eye whenever he would meet Joe in the hallways at school. The gym teacher had enough of Joe and called him into
his office. He then proceeded to threaten Joe. After a few minutes of intimidation Joe left the office and this just made
the teacher furious. Joe ran into a quiet stairwell corridor and the gym teacher followed him. About half way up the teacher
grabbed Joe proceeded to beat him with closed fists on his back and head until Joe was on all fours. At this time Joe managed
to crawl out and ran up the stairwell and into a crowded hallway. Joe’s grandmother noticed that he had some very heavy
thoughts on his mind when he came home that night.
Joe was in his bedroom listening to some heavy electric guitar riffs that night. He liked his hard rock. Grandmother
didn’t like the music he listened to. She preferred listening to the birds singing while sitting on the back porch cutting
up beans from the garden on the farm. The farm had to be sold when Grandfather died. Changes always tear at the heart it seems.
Joe explained what happened to him that day in high school.
"I hate that bastard" said Joe.
"What did you do to provoke him to do this?" Grandmother asked
Grandmother knew that her grandson didn’t lead a stellar life of studying and keeping out of trouble. When
she washed his clothes she could smell smoke and alcohol on them. A definite sign of partying. She worried about him and made
sure to be around as much as she could to talk with Joe.
"He hates our type"
"Our type?"
"You don’t understand"
Because the age of his grandmother Joe thought she wouldn’t understand the hierarchy of High School life.
The jocks, snobby upper class, the mediocre and guys like him. But what Joe didn’t realize that his grandmother has
been dealing with people thinking they were better than her most of her life.
"I hang with a few football players and go to parties with them"
"It sounds like you should choose your friends more wisely"
"They are just like me only that they become jocks, they still like to go out and have fun. When they became jocks
they get invited to parties of people that normally snub me" answered Joe.
"What does that mean to you?"
"They take me along"
"Well the gym teacher must of caught wind of this and doesn’t like it Joe"
Joe stopped and thought about it bit and replied.
"That doesn’t make it right what he did to me"
"No that doesn’t make it right, but there is a lot of that in the world. Joe there will always be the tyrants,
the ones who talk nice to your face and turn around and stab a knife in your back, the users and abusers"
"What you are saying is not to trust anyone"
"Trust everyone Joe but be prepared to expect the unexpected"
"Why?"
"Because to carry all that distrust in your heart will only lead you to a life of disharmony in your soul"
Grandmother turned away a little and a distant look slowly came over her face. Joe knew his Grandmother was wise
and respected it. He let her have her space to reflect. What Joe didn’t know is that all this talk brought up past experiences
for her. Being a young girl raised on a small farm living a life of accord with other neighboring farms it was hard to understand
the ways of city folk when she first worked in the urban setting as a teenager.
It was hard for her to adjust. At first she trusted every word and every action of the local town folk. It didn’t
take her long to figure these urban dwellers lead a different life than she. Friendship it seemed was only a word it seem
to them. Then there was that night. A night she will never forget. Forever etch in her mind.
"Grandson, you going to have to forgive him"
"Forgive that Bastard? I rather stick a hot poker in his eyes"
"Don’t you see the poison has already settled in your heart?"
"He put that poison in there"
Understanding Joe had hatred in his heart and vengeance on his mind. Grandmother knew the path that can lead to.
One of emptiness. She also knew any kind of vengeance would only get Joe in trouble.
"You need the strength to get that poison out. You need to reach deep in your soul and forgive him. To forgive
him will only make your heart stronger"
Grandmother was trying to reach Joe on a different level. She figured it was about time for him to understand a
different type of healing. Not of a physical one of the body but a spiritual one of the soul. For if it wasn’t for spiritual
healing she would never mend from that wicked night.
"To not forgive him will make him victorious over you. To forgive him will make you the winner"
"Won’t forgiving show that I’m weak or afraid?"
"You can use your fists to seek revenge but you will still have the hurt deep in your soul. Just sitting there
festering. Any man can use his fists to prove himself but it will only be physical retribution. Violence only breeds more
violence. To look at a violent bully in the eye and walk away without showing fear will prove your worth of courage to him.
To forgive him will show your strength within yourself"
Joe so happened to get this gym teacher in the next semester for swimming class. The teacher was quite adamant
in class what he was going to do with Joe. On every testing the teacher stood on the end of the pool when Joe completed the
required laps and exclaimed for the whole class to hear that he got an F for a grade. There was nothing wrong of course with
Joe’s swimming. But Joe didn’t flounder, he didn’t show weakness. Every time the teacher yelled out the
grade Joe just looked him in the eye and walked away. Joe stood his ground by not showing any intimidation. What he learned
was he had become a much stronger being and he never had to make a fist. He also learned the power and strength of a spiritual
heart, and what an idiot that teacher was. Did I say that out loud? Sorry Grandma I meant that in a spiritual way. The birds
were singing a great song this morning Grandma.
