But words will never harm me.
I was chatting to my daughter and grandson last night via WhatsApp video, always an absolute joy when I’m away. I miss them so much….
My daughter was telling me that she took him to the park in the afternoon which he loves.
There were some other children there, older than him by about a couple of years, playing with the bark and play pretending it was ice-cream.
My grandson (not yet 2 years old) trotted over and tried to make friends. He picked up some bark too and offered it to the little boy, who rejected it and dismissed him with a snarky comment 😔😔
His little face crumpled with disappointment and hurt. He wanted to join in and be friends. He’s such a sweet little soul and so generous.
My daughter related how her heart contracted with the pain of his rejection, the expression on his face.
And I knew exactly how she was feeling. My heart contracted with imagining how he felt and remembering how I used to feel when she was rejected at school and at any other time in her life. It pains me greatly to know that he’s going to go through these times as he grows up.
It reminded me of the little ditty my Mother taught me when I used to get bullied at school : ‘sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me’.
I recall chanting that ditty many times over the years, until my daughter some years ago said that actually it’s not true. Wounds from sticks and stones do heal in time and you tend to forget about them. But the words remain stuck in your head to go endlessly round and round, sometimes interminably as you grapple to make sense of why someone has said such hurtful things.
My heart ached for this little boy, just starting out on his journey through life and it brings tears to my eyes thinking about the painful times he is going to have to contend with.
I wish I could teach him how to not take the nasty things people say to heart, but I’m useless at that coz I’m still struggling with something my sister said to me at my daughter’s wedding nearly 3 years ago….
My daughter said she’s going to teach him to “not give a shit what people say”, but ultimately some barbs hit hard and go deep and the pain never goes away.
My grandson truly is a sweet, gentle, caring, generous little boy, and it pains me greatly to know that along his journey in life he too is going to feel the pain of nasty words. I do hope his Mummy can teach him how to not let them affect him too much.
To learn that “sticks and stones may break my bones, but I won’t let your words harm me”. To learn that words deliberately or carelessly directed at you are more about the person saying them than about you.
Not Just a Granny 