Last week the little boy had a meltdown. Apparently some neighborhood friends, the boys he spends all his outside playtime with, haven’t been the best friends lately. After a recent haircut, one of the boys said, “You look even dumber now.” And there have been other incidents that have caused him to feel sad and rejected, the worst of which is that no one sits with him on the bus. They all pair off and sit together, leaving my little boy alone.He sobbed in my arms, and my heart felt all the heaviness that a parent’s heart feels when you’re confronted again with the fact that you can’t keep your kids from feeling pain.  We talked about words, and how they hurt. How it would be a good choice for him to not cause others pain with the words he decides to use. We talked about what being a friend is, and  how they can all still be friends, even though no one is perfect and sometimes they hurt each other. But none of my words or comfort felt like enough. At bedtime, he was still sad. Then he said,  “Can you help me find my journal?”

I left him in his bed with his journal, and went to clean the kitchen. He ran out of his room at one point and exclaimed, “I’m drawing cartoons!” The next morning he told me he was bringing his journal in his backpack because he was going to use his time on the bus to draw.

This is the kind of grace that brings me to my knees. The fact that this seven-year-old had the idea to face a painful situation by drawing and writing makes me quite certain that, ultimately, all will be well.

He is a tough one, this kid. He is all about the NO. He feels deeply; he is easily angered and frustrated. He takes zero crap from anyone, and he tries to call you on crap you haven’t even done. I am in uncharted territory with him. But if at seven, he faces pain and rejection by working through his feelings artistically, and he decides to use the time when he is feeling most rejected (on the bus) to write and draw, then I have a feeling the kid is gonna be alright. WE are going to be alright.