Do demon spawns like fruit cups?

Our little demonTuesdays are reserved for kids.  Specifically, we reserve it for our issues that we have with our kids.  As our kids grow and mature, things come up.  We work hard to keep ourselves in check and not let our neuroses affect our kids or mold them to be mini me’s of us. However, one thing that is our priority is maintaining the safety of our little ones. So, as we purge the experience that we had at the church, we must address our children or more specifically, Bobby.

Lee says: Bobby was a student at the Catholic school attached to the parish we worked at.  He was only in PK when he was enrolled but he loved every minute of it.  His teacher was wonderful.  Not only was she a good person, she was an excellent educator.  He did well and felt very connected.

          When people began to attack us, we immediately looked at the safety of our son.  If people were willing to malign and eviscerate two total strangers to further their agendas, what would stop them from hurting a 4 year old?  As the rumors were returning to us through people unrelated to the church or school, we realized that these people would stop at nothing to harm us.

          Luckily, we were at the end of the school year and we didn’t have to hire body guards to kick anyone’s ass.  When the next year began, he was placed in a class room with a teacher loyal to the old principal.  She made a big show of kissing our ass but was obviously uncomfortable having the ‘Spawn of Demons’ in her classroom.  We hated leaving him everyday but the alternative was a sub par teacher whose students would end the year a little dumber than they started. 

          We were simultaneously let go because the Pastor just wouldn’t deal with constant reminder of his own inadequacy as an administrator or leader of a congregation.  Aside from the good we did in the parish, we were a constant symbol of the dirty underbelly of the workings of a sick system.  Even though our daughter had graduated from that school and had completed her sacraments in that church, we felt little compunction when we removed Bobby.  We knew he would never attend a Catholic school again nor would we ever subject any of our kids to that.   

          As someone who went to Catholic schools throughout my entire educational career, I understand the feeling of community and fellowship that a parish/congregation gives you. During grade school, I felt that my classmates were my extended family. But there are always those individual who take things a little too personally and believe that they are the keepers of the truth and the light.  They believe that the integrity of the community depends on them and weeding out the unwanted is their charge. What lesson did their parents forget to teach them?

          Compassion is lost in the face of attachment.  We substitute our entitlement and possessiveness for common courtesy and empathy for our fellow man. We don’t care what the fall-out is including a child who had nothing to do with this. I will tell you had they actually done something to my son, even the slightest gesture, I would be blogging from an 8×8 cell. Their image of me as a fiend confirmed.  

          Paul says: I am not certain what lesson of attachment we provided for Bobby. On one hand, I want him to have a Zen-like outlook on the material, knowing that the school is simply brick and mortar and that important relationships can last. On the other, when is it right to dig in for what you believe. Like the song says, ‘you got to know when to hold’em and know when to fold’em.’ Maybe it was a bad hand to start out with.

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