Bully

I was learning how to play football in a sandy playground not so far from our campsite. Dusk and dark fought each other when a kid a foot shorter than me asked if he could join. I answered with an affirmative. His fierce blue eyes hung under spiteful eyebrows trapped in a eternal tilt. He spoke in one strong, demanding tone which would be difficult to imitate. ‘I’m good at weaving through attacks and destroying your enemy.’ He went on.

We never got to finish our game. If a nicer side of him existed, it never revealed itself. It crossed my mind that he might just be mentally ill. He jumped on people who were down, rammed his own team mates because ‘they weren’t paying attention’, threw sand in peoples eyes to get passed them, hurt someones cheek, threw a pop can at a little girl’s head, and all in all, ruined our game. What does it feel like to live life in hate and revenge?

From this experience I learned how hard it is to turn the other cheek and love my enemy… Even when he’s on the same team.