What Tim Taught Me About Compassion
When I was in seventh grade there was this kid named Tim, who annoyed me. Truth be told, Tim annoyed everyone. One day Tim and I got into a fight in class. It wasn't much of a fight, honestly. Tim said something insulting to me for like the fourth time that day, and I jumped out of my desk and tackled him. By the time the teacher pulled me off of him, I had been pounding on Tim's head pretty good. We both got sent the principals office and we both got paddled, which still happened back in those days. I had to shake Tim's hand and act all buddy-buddy afterward, but when we were walking down the hall back to class I told him, "You keep mouthing off to me like that, and I'm going to kick your butt all over again." Tim looked at me blankly and said, "If I get paddled at school, I get way worse when I get home. Way worse." At that moment, for the first time since the beginning of the fracas, Tim began to cry. ...