When I was in 7th grade at Miller Jr. High, I took French I, having switched to that class from typing (since OB claimed the typing class was rather useless, since the layout of the keyboard was to change soon--well that didn't happen; at least mom encouraged me to learn typing on my own, and it's only for that reason that the typing class was useless, even though Stacey O. was in that class... is Stacey O. still living in Cupertino?).
In my French class was a boy named Armin, who was quiet, didn't do that well in the course, and couldn't really socialize with others. He didn't speak loudly, and he was difficult to understand. As you might expect, he got a reputation for being a loner (and also a loser). One would see him hanging out in the corridors between the buildings during recess and lunch by himself. I don't remember what he did during those periods. Did he read like other boys who were alone? Did he write or draw? I wish my memories were stronger.
After hearing someone call him some name for the nth time, I was prompted (by grace? by natural sympathy?) to go up to him one recess, when I was walking by him near the library(?). I remember that it took a lot for me to go up to him; I'm not sure why--probably it was because of shyness plus timidity. I don't recall the exact words, but it was something along the lines of "Hi Armin, if you want to be friends, we can go play sometime?" That's all I said or did, but he had a beaming smile on his face. I don't know why I walked away after that, maybe I thought it was enough that day, or maybe I had to go somewhere, or maybe the end lunch recess was near. As I walked away I saw him smiling and talking to himself...
I was happy to have done it, enough that I think I told my mom later that day about it. I suppose I was proud that I had done something good, even though it seemed small.
After that day I never saw him again. I heard from one of the students that his father(?) got upset at him and beat him up so badly that he had to go to the hospital. Did this actually happen? I don't know, but he never came back to Miller. Where is he now? Is he happy now?
Charity, agape sometimes requires courage, and for the sake of agape one needs to be bold. Nothing else really matters.
1 comment:
Wow, PB. That is certainly a story! Poor Armin. But at least he had an hour or so of happiness, poor boy. Well, I am back in Boston with a wicked case of jet lag. Where are you? Incidentally, never go on a date when you have wicked jet lag.
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