It had been a long day, and I hadn't eaten since breakfast, nor had several of the athletes around me. So as my McDonald's table filled with Middle School girls, I kept my prayer short, and we tore into our burgers, happily rehashing the main exciting moments of the all-day volleyball tournament. That's when he showed up.
Surrounded by his wife and three daughters, the man came up the stairs shouting obscenities and swearing in German. I glanced around the seating area, wondering how all the students from my Christian school would react. A couple were staring at him and some at me with big eyes, but for the most people kept eating. I shrugged my shoulders and took another bite, glancing at the man out of the corner of my eye. That's when I saw him make a sweeping gesture toward a large group of our students. "I mean you all! All of you. You're a bunch of little ...."
I jumped up from my booth, trying to swallow my bite quickly while inserting myself between the yelling man and the 7th grader closest to him. "Can I help you?" I asked with a sarcastic overtone. His response was terse and indignant. "Your students here need to learn some manners! I've never been treated with such insolence. Not an ounce of decent human behavior." His wife joined in, and I was able to discover that the short of it was that one of our students had bumped him and hadn't apologized.
I fought a retort forming in my mind about "decent human behavior toward kids" and instead tried to explain that we had just come from a tournament, but I wasn't ever allowed to finish a sentence. "I want an apology!" the man demanded. "Let me apologize on their behalf --" I started. "I don't want your apology!!" he took a step closer, his eyes roaming the room for the offender. I struggled to push down my own anger for the sake of rationality. "Is the person here? Maybe I can talk to him or her --" I began. He almost spit, "she ran down the stairs like a coward. If I see her again ..." and at that point he raised his hand to show he would hit her. That was the straw. "And if you do that, I won't hesitate to call the police," I snarled. Even his wife turned to him at that moment and told him to sit and calm down. He sat, and I had to walk away because I was shaking so badly.
That's when I saw that one of the High School students coaches, an 11th grader and former student of mine, had taken a stand behind me. Towering over my head, I'm sure, he had seen me getting yelled at and had come as back-up. I could've hugged him in that moment, the tangible reminder that as I had to step in the gap and defend those entrusted to me, that someone had my back and would defend me, too. Like Jesus, I thought. My heart cracked and softened a bit as the gospel broke in.
Back at the table, of course, seven 8th grade girls wanted to know "what was that about?!?" When we looked back over at the man and his family, my eyes were drawn to his pre-teen daughter, sitting in the corner with her hands over her face, utterly ashamed of her dad's behavior. One of my middle schoolers sitting next to me saw her at the same time. "I feel so bad for her," she whispered to me, and I nodded. How blessed am I that I never had parents who did that to me, but rather who modeled a Christ-like defender and generous forgiver.
I couldn't eat at that moment anyway, so I took a walk downstairs to the McCafe and purchased three cookies. For his kids. I couldn't shake the feeling that the bump was probably not the cause of the man's explosion all over us, and if he was willing to put on a scene in public, what might his home life look like. It took a while before I could give them to him, but on our way out the door, I was able to offer another apology for my student's behavior, and he accepted the cookies with a grunt and another mini sermon about human decency.
The middle school girls at my table were aghast. "You gave him cookies!?!" I tried to explain, "It's the gospel. We received a grace we didn't deserve and we are called to pass it on." God knows I fail more days than not, but I'm thankful for this teachable moment, both for my own heart and for those in my students.
Middle School Boys team with coaches
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