This is a poem I read to my daughter once a week before bed so she understand to treat everyone with respect and to teach her about bullying, its a little long but I know some of may know it but Im posting its for other who havent read it, I love this poem and I think you will to Making sarah cry He stood among his friends from school, He joined their childhood games Laughing as they played kickball And when they called poor Sarah names. Sarah was unlike the rest; She was slow and not as smart, And it would seem to all this friends She was born without a heart. And so he gladly joined their fun Of making Sarah cry. But somewhere deep within his heart, He never knew just why. For he could hear his mothers voice, Her lessons of right and wrong Playing over and over inside his head Just like a favorite song. Treat others with respect, son, The way youd want them treating you. And remember, when you hurt others, Someday, someone might hurt you. He knew his mother wouldnt understand The purpose of their game Of teasing Sarah, who made them laugh As her own tears fell like rain. The funny faces that she made And the way shed stomp her feet Whenever they mocked the way she walked Or the stutter when shed speak. To him she must deserve it Because she never tried to hide. And if she truly wanted to be left alone, Then she should stay inside. But every day shed do the same: Shed come outside to play, And stand there, tears upon her face, Too upset to run away. The game would soon be over As tears dropped from her eyes, For the purpose of their fun Was making Sarah cry. It was nearly two whole months He hadnt seen his friends. He was certain they all must wonder What happened and where hed been So he felt a little nervous As he limped his way to class He hoped no one would notice, He prayed no one would ask About that awful day: The day his bike met with a car, Leaving him with a dreadful limp And a jagged-looking scar. So he held his breath a little As he hobbled into the room, Where inside he saw a Welcome Back banner And lots of red balloons. He felt a smile cross his face As his friends all smiled too And he couldnt wait to play outside- His favorite thing to do. So the second that he stepped outdoors And saw his friends all waiting there, He expected a few pats on the back- Instead, they all stood back and stared. He felt his face grow hotter As he limped to join their side To play a game of kickball And of making Sarah cry. An awkward smile crossed his face When he heard the words, Hey Freak, Whered you get the ugly mask? He turned, expecting Sarah, But Sarah could not be seen. It was the scar upon his own face That caused such words so mean. He joined in their growing laughter, Trying hard to not give in To the awful urge inside to cry Or the quivering of his chin. They are only teasing, He made himself believe. They are still my friends; Theyd never think of hurting me. But the cruel remarks continued About the scar and then his limp. And he knew if he shed a single tear Theyd label him a wimp. And so the hurtful words went on, And in his heart he wondered why. But he knew without a doubt The game would never end, until they made him cry. And just when a tear had formed, He heard a voice speak out from behind. Leave him alone you bullies, Because hes a friend of mine. He turned to see poor Sarah, Determination on her face, Sticking up for one of her own tormentors And willing to take his place. And when his friends did just that, Trying their best to make poor Sarah cry, This time he didnt join in, And at last understood exactly why. Treat others with respect, son The way youd want them treating you. And remember, when you hurt others, Someday, someone might hurt you. It took a lot of courage But he knew he must be strong, For at last he saw the difference Between whats right and wrong. And Sarah didnt seem so weird Through his understanding eyes. Now he knew hed never play again The game of making Sarah cry. It took several days of teasing And a razzing from his friends, But when they saw his strength, They chose to be like him. And now out on the playground, A group of kids meets everyday For a game of kickball and laughter And teaching their new friend, Sarah, how to play. It was written by Cheryl L. Costello-Forshey. ~stinkweed
Posted on: Wed, 30 Oct 2013 14:21:34 +0000
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