// 24 March 2018 - Sydney, Australia //
“Is there a God?” I was stunned when Junior asked me this question. We were in the kitchen table, me slicing the apple he asked for a snack, as he sat across the table.
Anthony went to report to work today, and Ellen out to buy some grocery for dinner before they go back to Melbourne tonight.
“Junior can’t have absences in school,” Anthony told me, accompanied by a kiss, before heading to work this morning.
Junior’s question still cluttered in my mind, the pressure kicking in that I needed to answer something that has been debated for years. Yet, this was my first exclusive dialogue with him, and I felt obliged to give, at least, a responsible and age-appropriate answer.
As I arranged my first attempt to answer him, Junior already supplemented his query.
“Some say there is no God. But Grandma, she says there is God. Mommy says she doesn’t know. And my teacher says she’s certain there is God. How do we know there's a God? We can’t see God.” Junior’s tone revealed heaps of curiosity, especially with the later part.
I wanted to answer, “I don’t know.” Like most adults do. But it occurred to me that this kid is in a re-evaluation process and he seemed to be expecting a good answer.
When I finished slicing the apple and handed its bowl to Junior, I sat beside him, watched him take the first bite, and then passed through needles to answer him.
“Well, not everything that exists needs to be seen.” I said softly. Then I happened to see him grab another slice of the apple, which then gave me the idea of using it as reference.
“The nutrients in the apple, for example.” I proceeded to explain. “You can’t see the nutrients in the apple, but you eat it because you think it can nourish you.”
I took a sigh of relief immediately after, wishing my response won’t confuse him further. Junior faced me steadily now, his innocent face brightening, as though he’s taken in my point.
Before I could go to the sink for a glass of water, Junior asked another question. This time, a more sensitive one. “Have you ever been bullied?”
I almost fell off my seat upon hearing it, then I remembered instantly one of the photos from the investigation file on Anthony. Although it's normal for kids to feel sad, Junior’s aura in the picture, as he left the school gate, was different. And I wonder now if the picture is linked to the possibility that he is bullied in school.
I inched closer to Junior and asked him cautiously. “Are you being bullied in school?” For a while, Junior was quiet as owl, looking like there’s something dense in his chest. Surely, I’ll relay this serious matter to Anthony straight off, but I needed to say something now. The child seemed helpless.
Not long after, Junior finally admitted. The world crushed my spirit upon learning it all, especially the part when he said, “Maybe it’s okay to be a loser.” A child, so young, is not supposed to look at the world this way. It’s cruel and unkind.
I wanted to embrace Junior as comforting as I could, but I also thought how it would affect his self-esteem. “Does anyone know about this?” I asked gradually, making sure my eyes didn’t escape his.
“No. Just me. And you now.” Junior’s head was still arched low. I felt the worst kind of pain, my concentration shutting to pieces, but I needed to be stronger before this child and encourage him.
The more he feels good about himself, the less likely the bullying will impact his self-esteem. This I thought to myself.
“Why do you think they bully you?” I progressed, sensing the lightness that Junior was going to be more open about it.
“Because I’m different.”
I took a closer look at Junior and tried my hardest to encourage him. “It's good to be different,” I exclaimed, which unexpectedly brightened his facial expression. “You wanna know why?” I enlivened my voice in the hope of boosting his mood.
"Why?"
“It’s because different people oftentimes win at life. They may be different but they have the kindest heart. They end up changing the world and making it a better place for everybody.”
Junior listened steadfastly that I had to continue. “Without them, there are no computers, no internet, no video games!” I made sure I delivered it like a kindergarten teacher, with all enthusiasm and hand gestures.
And Junior… he was starting to feel good now, and that was what really matters.
“And no man ever sent into space without them?!” Junior added, and on the spur of the moment, we gave each other an unexpected high-five.
“That’s it!” I giggled, unknowingly wrapping him in my arms now. “You’re not a loser, remember that, okay?” I released Junior from my embrace slowly and stooped down to level his eyes. “And those bullies, they are the real losers. You’re a bigger person than them. A bigger person is brave and he faces the bully nicely. A bigger person holds his anger and does not harm others. Show them you’re the bigger person, okay?”
Junior nodded positively. “Okay.” His smile so much brighter I could almost witness his teeth sparkle. Right there and then, I felt a deeper connection with Junior. I knew he’ll be brave.