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“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” ~ 2 Corinthians 12:9
“The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” ~ Psalms 34:18
~ Jay Walker, 8 years old. ~
Jay sat cross-legged on the concrete of the far side of the bus loop by his school. A model plane he was tinkering with rested on his lap as he fumbled with some of its screws. Even the smallest screwdriver he had been able to find felt clumsy in his hand. He was making do, but it was still annoying. Every few moments, he let out an irritated grunt or exclamation. How was he supposed to get these wires rearranged by the end of recess if he had to work with tools like this?
He was so engrossed in his work that he didn’t notice the fifth grader approaching him until the boy’s shadow fell across him, making him look up.
The boy had leaned over to study Jay’s project.
“Whatcha doing?” he asked.
Jay brushed a lock of auburn hair away from his eyes and smiled up at the older boy.
“I’m rewiring this plane! When I’m done, it should be able to fly at least forty-five miles per hour, which is faster than it’s supposed to, according to the box. It’s really only supposed to go thirty-five. But I think if I had better tools I could get it to go as fast as—”
“This thing can go forty-five miles an hour?” the boy said, interrupting him. “There’s no way. You’re lying.”
“Well, it can’t yet, but—”
“Lemme see it.”
The other boy grabbed for the plane, and Jay yelped, scooching backward out of his reach and dropping his tools. He clutched the plane protectively to his chest.
“It-It’s not done, yet!”
“I knew you were lying. I bet you can’t even build that thing properly,” the boy said, taking another step forward. Jay backed up another step. “You should give it to me. I bet I can make it cooler than you can.”
Jay felt his face start to heat up. “No, I know what I’m doing! And I spent four months of allowance and my birthday money on this.”
The boy laughed. “Really? No wonder you’re sitting all by yourself over here. You’re just some little nerd. Do you even have friends?”
“Y-yeah, of course!”
“Funny, ‘cause I never see you with them,” the boy said, then a grin split his face. “I think I’ll just take that.” He jammed his thumb into his chest. “You can call it a birthday present, since mine’s in ten days! It’d be doing you a favor, too. Maybe you’ll actually be able to make friends if you don’t have a stupid toy in your arms.”
The boy shot his hands forward to make another grab at the plane, and Jay jumped back again, out of his reach. Jay’s cheeks were on fire now. He had been working on this project for three whole weeks. Why would this stupid jerk think he would just let it be taken away? And he had friends! Of course, none of them had talked to him since summer, but that was beside the point!
Jay took a few more quick steps back before the fifth grader had a chance to lunge again and carefully laid his precious plane on the ground behind him.
“If you want it, you’ll have to go through me,” he growled as he stood up and faced the other boy again, trying his best impression of what Fritz Donnegan would say. He had to have sounded at least a little intimidating, right?
“You can’t be serious,” the boy said, laughing.
Jay didn’t even have time to spit out a reply before he had to dodge a fist that had been heading straight for his nose. He gritted his teeth and swung a leg out at the older boy’s ankle. The boy hissed in pain, but didn’t move, and the next fist connected with Jay’s stomach.
Jay couldn’t breathe. He fell to his knees, wheezing and gasping for air, with his arms wrapped around his middle.
“My little sister hits harder than you,” the boy sneered.
By the time Jay recognized the knee rocketing toward his face, it was too late. There was a crunch as it, too, connected, and he felt something warm and wet dripping from his nose. He fell to his side, pain blurring and darkening his vision.
Somewhere, through the haze of pain, he heard the boy speak again.
“I didn’t even want your stupid toy!”
The statement was followed by a sickening series of cracks that made Jay flinch with each one that rang out. It was the sound of plastic breaking.
When he had finally caught his breath and the stars had stopped spinning in front of his eyes, the older boy was long gone, back to playing with his friends. Jay pushed himself up slowly and wiped a careful hand across his nose. It came away red.
He barely even dared to look up at his project. He knew what he would see. And, as expected, it was in a crumpled heap. One wing was broken off, the landing gear was bent at an angle that made him cringe, and the body itself was snapped in half, not to mention the numerous other dents riddling it.
Jay stood and bent down to gently scoop the pieces off of the ground, sniffling. His vision began to swim again. As a mixture of tears and blood began to drip onto the remains, a tiny, persistent thought entered his mind.
What if I had just run?
He was the fastest in his class by far. It wasn’t even close. Faster than other kids he couldn’t hope to match in strength. Running was the only physical skill he seemed to be good at… That and dodging dodgeballs.
Jay’s shoulders were shaking now, and he hiccupped, staring down at his ruined wiring. He had been so close to finishing, too.
What if I had just run?