Throughout my school days I was a quiet student. And, what is considered a "nerd" today. I was into major reading and writing. I was the kid in the class who always had "a hand raised" eager to answer. I was the kid who would remind the teacher, "you forgot our homework assignment," which always brought about a “cacophony of groans and moans.” Needless to say, I was hardly the popular girl due to my vigor and appetite for acquiring a higher level of knowledge.
I basically lived for school, assignments, and doing well. I could hardly wait to get up in the morning to get to school for another day of learning. Until one particularly grim day….It was a day that changed my demeanor and complete course of action.
I was in the powder room, when the late bell rang. After washing my hands, I gathered my books walking out into the corridor. I was still "studying" in my mind for the history test as I picked up my pace. The hallway was empty the students in their classrooms, when suddenly I felt a paralyzing pain on the right side of my face. Before I had realized where it came from, there were four girls around me. They roughly grabbed hold of both arms, and held me, while the "biggest and heaviest one" punched me over and over. It seemed as if it was happening for an eternity...but it was probably all over in a matter of two minutes at which time they had pushed me down on the cold marble tiles.
I was on the ground bleeding...and in shock. My classroom was within two feet from where I lay. I got up, staggered toward my history class, and then passed out as I entered the room. I woke up in the nurse's office. "Are you okay? Do you know where you are?" The R.N. had asked with valid concern.
"I'm dizzy. I'm in pain all over… is this the nurse's office?"
The rest of that day was quite hazy. My parents were both called to the school. I was taken to the hospital. I was concussed with lacerations on my face, and multiple fractured ribs. My parents were livid to say the least...I recall that with clarity. Yet, of course, they were primarily concerned with their daughter’s well-being more than anything else.
I was frightened to go back to school after that. And I became withdrawn. It was determined, after numerous consultations with the school board, and a Christian youth counselor; that I could "stay at home" to finish out my year. I had difficulty concentrating. My parents were patient, understanding, and loving during that entire ordeal. And, they had worked dutifully with me, and my "teacher’s suggestions."
At the end of the term I came face to face with a predicament. I could return to classes or, remain at home for the final year of middle school. I struggled with feelings that were convoluted and conflicted at once. I had wanted to attend school again; I missed it dearly, and the interaction with other students. Yet, I was reticent about a return and the possibility of additional bullies repeating what I had already endured.
Prayers and God helped me. The Lord gave me the courage, and fortitude to go back to school the following school term. That experience helped shape my life, and prepared me for my adult years. I sincerely longed to help others. Especially those bullied, or abused. The Lord took my ashes and turned it into beauty. He formed and ordained my steps for a career in social services and Christian counseling…ultimately becoming a voice for the elderly.
I found out that the bullies were random girls who broke into the school looking for someone to "beat up." Being late for class that day (the first time ever) was the basis of my being attacked. They were all sent to juvenile detention. And it turns out that they all had a prior record, but none as violent as the attack against my person that day.
I am glad they were stopped before doing irreparable harm to others. I thank the Lord for His loving hand in all of this. I had forgiven all of my attackers not too long after that incident, and have never looked back.
I wonder what became of them. I pray their lives were turned around and that the Lord touched their hearts…With God all things are possible.
Note: This is a true story that happened to me when I was 11.
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