A Mother’s Memories
Eleven-year-old Joshua ran into the house, slamming the door behind him. “Mom, Mom, the mean boys are chasing me again.”
For the past week, while doing his newspaper route, my son had been harassed by a gang of teenage bullies. The sound of his voice told me he’d had enough. Joshua whipped around the corner of the kitchen, catching me dusting our knickknacks. “I’ve got to deliver my papers. What am I gonna do, Mom?”
I cocked my head, holding the dust rag. “Do you want me to go with you? I’m sure they won’t bother you while I’m there.”
Joshua lowered his head. “I guess.”
I stepped closer to him. “Look at me, Son.”
Tears brimmed in his eyes. “Why do those guys have to bother me?”
I hooked my arm into his. “Some people have small-thinking minds. Did you get to finish your route?”
“Tomorrow, I’ll go with you. We’ll make it fun.”
The next day, Joshua pointed out the teens who threatened to beat him up and possibly steal his bike. I stopped my bicycle and got off. I planted hands on my hips and glared at each of them. I was prepared to tell them I’d call the police if they didn’t leave us alone, but I didn’t have to. They turned and walked off.
For the next few weeks, Joshua and I rode daily on his paper route. I met his customers. Some of the older folks talked about how responsible Joshua was, and that they were glad he was their paperboy.
Even though Joshua’s fear of the boys caused him to quit his route, we had great times being together. We raced each other on the bikes and chatted about school and his friends. Best of all, I believe Joshua knew his mom was someone he could count on.
Father, I know that time was humiliating for Joshua. As his mother, I am glad I had those weeks together with my son. He worked hard, and I was proud of him. In Jesus’s holy name. Amen.
~Your Mother Memories~
~Your Prayer of Praise~
~A Scripture of Encouragement~