I Got My Revenge On the Bully!

Have you ever wanted to see someone get their “just desserts”? In other words, they get what they deserve because of the way they treated you? I must surely have felt some of that because of a classmate who bullied me in junior high school. Well, in a rare circumstance, I got to see it happen and I didn't have to do a thing.  It started when I was in ninth grade. I was a good student in subjects like English and history, but not so much in math. Freshman year was when you took algebra one. It went all wrong for me that year.  Right at the beginning of school I had pneumonia and then a couple of weeks later I had major surgery. Out of the first nine weeks, I missed five of them. Having missed the basics, I never caught up in algebra class. Even with some extra tutoring, I just couldn't figure it out.

My math teacher was not the nicest person (and in retrospect not the best teacher for me), and seemed to have little tolerance for me struggling to learn the subject. She had a daughter that was a classmate in the same grade. Up until this year I had never had any trouble with Helen.* We were by no means acquaintances let alone friends. I simply knew her on sight. But now she started making fun of me, what today we call bullying. I had no way to really fight back. I didn't know why she started doing it. It would be years later that I would figure out what probably went on. I cannot, of course, prove it, but it is the only thing that really makes sense. 

It is possible that the algebra teacher, Helen's mother, may have gone home and talked about her students, and quite possibly in a not so pleasant way. Was she talking in front of her family and saying unkind things about students? I have no way of knowing just what may have been happening. I do know that the Bible says, be sure your sin will find you out (Numbers 32:23). It wasn't the thing for me to exact revenge on Helen for her unkindness to me. Not at all. And after all these decades, it is forgiven. Hopefully, she grew up to be a productive adult. 

That's not the end of the story, however. It was what happened a couple of years later that completes the story. We were now in high school. Most of those kids who had given me grief in junior high now mainly ignored me, which was really a relief. Much easier that being mocked, belittled, and laughed at. I don't recall that Helen was giving me trouble either. 

The last few days of the school year arrived with awards day in the auditorium. The sophomore class was seated in the balcony, the seniors in the center section, and the juniors in the two sections on either side of the center section. As a junior, I was seated about half way back in the assigned seats with my home room class. Students were being called up on stage to receive their various awards. I wasn't receiving any awards. Such a thing for me was extremely rare to nonexistent. I wasn't an outstanding anything, largely due to what is now called social anxiety. I simply didn't get involved in school activities.

The time period was the late 1960's, a time of some crazy fashion fads that quickly came and went. I have to explain this for you to understand what happened to Helen on awards day. I should also add that this was a small town high school. I'll do my best to describe a particular fashion I had seen on some girls that spring in the school. It started with a mini dress which was cut and fashioned in baby doll style. Like the kind of dress you would see on a baby girl. But that was only part of the outfit. The dress had matching bloomers, or shorts, cute little bloomers with ruffles around the gathered legs. Imagine a baby girl wearing a cute little dress with a matching diaper cover that had ruffles around the leg. Now picture that same outfit in adult size on a teenage girl. You're getting the picture. And I think you have probably begun to figure out where this is going. 

Helen's name was called to go up on stage to receive her award (whatever it was as I have no recollection). Her choice of outfit that day is one she probably still blushes to think about. Her baby doll outfit was pink, and oh, those cute ruffled bloomers peeking out from under the mini dress was so cute. So cute, that, as Helen made her way down the aisle to the stage, we began to  hear a twitter of laughter. The closer she got to the stage the more the laughter increased. By the time she was on stage, her face was red, and the whole student body was laughing. Poor Helen. I wouldn't have blamed her if she went home that day, tore off the outfit and burned it. 

As I sat in my seat taking it in, I thought, I got my revenge, and I didn't have to do a thing. By her clothing choice of the day, she suffered a huge humiliation. She now understood how it felt to be the subject of mocking and being laughed at. The fact that she stood there on stage without running off in tears showed she had some fortitude, something I don't think I'd have had. 

Did I revel in her discomfort? No, I don't recall that I did. I felt a bit sorry for her. She got what she deserved, and no one did it to her. She did it to herself. I never want to reach a place where the misery of others brings me delight, even if it is someone who mistreated me. I have no place in my life for bitterness and grudges against those who are unkind to me. The adage is so true that says bitterness is poison you drink and then waiting for the other person to die. As I said, I hope that Helen has had a healthy, happy, productive life. I haven't to my knowledge seen her since that day decades ago. (I attended a different school for my senior year.)

How do you handle the difficult situations when you are the object of someone's bullying? Do you respond in kind? Do you seek revenge? Do you become bitter and wish the worst for your enemy? What do you do?

FYI for those who want to see what kind of outfit Helen was wearing, here are three links that show the style of garment that she wore.

https://collection.maas.museum/object/366101#&gid=1&pid=1

https://i.pinimg.com/564x/af/72/1f/af721f6ec0f96c57acfc76c0fee72bfe.jpg

https://i.pinimg.com/564x/30/00/18/300018cd001fbc39726e0a9f02326a2c.jpg

*After five+ decades and hundreds of miles from where it happened, I have to fear of using her first name.

Sisters Who Are Strangers

 I'm not the only person who has known this situation– I have twin half-sisters I've never known. I've never talked to them, seen them, and didn't even know of their existence until I was a teen. And then it only became know because my long absent father had been approved for disability and had to declare his children as beneficiaries. That's when we learned that he had other children. 

I'm the oldest of them all. They've known about me and my (full) sister for many years. In fact, it seems they are in some contact with her, but not with me. It's a strange situation. Am I curious about them? A little. I know they are 10 years younger than me. They had an older brother, my half-brother, who I discovered, is now deceased. I never knew him either. 

The story goes back decades when my father went to work one day and never came home again. I was just three years old at the time and my sister not yet two. The marriage had probably never been a good one, and the family dynamics, as I understand them to be, were not contributive to building a strong marriage and family, but just the opposite.

We were living on the West Coast at the time, but after my father left, my mother took my sister and me and returned east to live. In retrospect, it was in our best interest that we had no physical contact with my father. I would not meet him until nearly 40 years later. As I would learn, he really had no boundaries. He was a sad specimen of a man, just an immoral shell of what he could have been had he had the strength of character to resist his temptations. 

After he came to visit a second time, my son went to stay with him for several months to attend a trade school where he lived. Son was able to talk with my half siblings, but he quickly sensed that there was no desire for them to know me or meet me. Wee, no hard feelings. You can really miss something or someone you've never known. But it still seems strange to have close family that has no interest in knowing other close family members. But I admit it would be awkward. 

Back to the twins– I was curious to know if my father was still living. After his visits I had finally been able to forgive him for abandoning me as a little girl. But I also knew there could be no future father-daughter relationship. Such was not possible due to his many problems. So searching the internet I found that, indeed, he had died, but so had my half brother. 

I contacted my sister's family to tell what I had found. I got a rather nonchalant reply. Oh, yes, they knew. The twins had let them know. I had some mixed feelings on learning that. So, they are in contact with my sister, who does live in the general area of the west where they also live. If my sister and her family knew, then why didn't they tell me? These are almost certainly answers I am very unlikely to get.

My sister was musically talented. She had a beautiful soprano voice. She could sing any harmony. We used to sing duets as teens. But her voice outshone mine. She was outgoing, involved in activities, while I has dealing with what is now referred to as social phobia. While we still had young children, she and her family moved out west, far from where I lived. Through the years contact has been sporadic. She has become a recluse. She doesn't stay in touch. She'll contact me and we'll communicate for awhile, then nothing for years. When our mother was dying, God answered my prayer that mom and sister would make peace before she passed, and they did. Sis and I stayed in contact for some years, then silence again. She didn't answer her phone, when I tried to call, so eventually I quit trying.

How is it that families can fracture so badly? I have no answers except that we each and every day decided what is important to us. I know that in some families, there are feuds and quarrels over things small and large. But that isn't the case here. I'm the one who cared for our mother in her final years. I asked my sister for nothing. I had instinctively known most of my life that that responsibility would fall on me. It was not an easy one, as mom was not an easy person to be around. 

So where does this all end? In a stalemate? I've learned to get on with life and living. I pray for them, knowing that I do not possess the ability to change the situation. But my phone number is known to the rest of them, and if they call, I'll answer, even if they have to leave a message. This is life, and it doesn't always go as we would like, but I've learned that God is the friend, the Father who never leaves or deserts us. He alone has the peace that passes all understanding.

A Dark and Stormy Night

 Springtime in my neck of the woods is monsoon season. No, I don't live in India. Seasonal rains are common around the earth. Come July and August, it will be hot and dry, with little rain. 

Last Friday was a dark and very stormy night. We knew the forecast was for thunderstorms with lots of rain and possibly hail. There was also the possibility of tornados. I went to bed at my usual time with the knowledge that the night's sleep would probably be broken by thunder and lightening. I made sure to unplug all the electronics before settling down for the night. I've had the experience of a lighting strike frying my motherboard, so I take no chances.

About 12:30 am, the wind was howling, and the power went out. I could hear the rain beating against the windows. Our bedroom has a north facing window that never gets wet when it rains and the rain usually comes from the west. But this night was different. I'm glad I had chosen to close the window as it got a soaking. 

Of course, I was no longer sleeping, thought I tried. I kept listening to the sounds of the wind and rain on the metal roof, then I heard hail coming down. I have always heard that you can hear a tornado coming because it sounds like a freight train. I kept listening for such a sound, but didn't hear it. I did hear some noise that I wasn't familiar with, but didn't know what it was.

The power was out for a bit over two hours, then came back on and I went back to sleep. The storm was mostly gone. When morning came, the sun was out. I looked out the window to see what damage might have been done, then got dressed to go get downed branches out of the driveway. In the process I realized that there was a branch awfully low over the drive. On closer inspection, I saw that a tree had split in half and that half was now barely hanging over the drive. A branch of it was caught in the work of another tree branch. It was definitely more that I would be able to handle. Time to call on some help.

My son was able to get the branch down and out of the way. But it took a large forklift which had been rented for a building project to remove it safely. We were thankful the equipment was available. 

While the half tree was being removed we learned from a neighbor that a tornado had come very close and had destroyed much of our neighbor's property. We live in a rural area with farms around us. Her barns, garage, and outbuildings took a direct hit. He house had roof damage, but was spared being demolished. Another neighbor had his barn destroyed. We could see the path of the tornado by the damage to the trees.

On our way to church that morning, we were unable to take the road we usually took as it was blocked by debris, which meant going a different route. On the drive, we saw many trees twisted and torn by the twister a few hours previous. Local people were out with their chain saws and tractors clearing the road.

We would later learn that there were actually two tornados that came through our area. No, I didn't hear anything like a freight train, a sound I'm familiar with. But that odd sound I had heard was probably the twisters coming through. How very thankful we are for God's protection that night. Though there was damage, our neighbor was unhurt as she huddled under a blanket with her two dogs as the storm destroyed her barns. God kept us all safe.