This morning we went to storytime at the library on our air force base. Both David and Bethel were listening well, but just as the story was starting to wind down, several of the children became fidgety, and one little boy started to poke Bethel. She told him to stop (quietly [shock], probably too quietly for his mother to hear). He did not stop, and I motioned to David to help Bethel move her carpet square back a little so she wasn’t too close to him. Perhaps he felt his personal space was being invaded. David helped, but still, the little boy continued to poke.
Before I tell you what I did, I want to tell you what I was thinking. First, I was concerned that Bethel would hit the child, or scream at him (that happens at home when David won’t stop teasing; of course we are working on those responses). If I were at a playground, I would have said something loudly to Bethel, like, “Did you ask him to stop poking you?” in hopes that the mother would step in and intervene. I didn’t want to be loud, because that would have disturbed the storytime.
Fact: I did not know the child, or know who his mother was.
Fact: We’re on a small base in a small town. Most of the children see Lee as their pediatrician, and many, if not all, the mothers know I’m Lee’s wife.
What would you have done? I was not happy with how I handled it, in light of some specific, relevant Scripture that came to mind on the way home. Ultimately, I have to answer the question, Am I going to live like the world, or like a Christian?