Yesterday, I went to the Portland Timbers' game with my friend Jason. We parked and waited for the light rail to take us to the stadium. While we were waiting, we witnessed a sad and violent act. A father yanked back a young boy - no older than 5 - who had motioned to step into the street. Mind you, no car was coming.
The man then proceeded to spank his son and yell at him in public. The boy began to cry - no weep - as we all witnessed this unpleasantness. The father ignored the boy and continued to check his smartphone through several minutes of sobbing. It was the juxtaposition of force and neglect that was so powerfully sickening.
I felt badly for the boy. However, I also felt badly about myself because of the times I have failed to be patient enough or thoughtful enough with my own children. I have never laid a hand on either child, but I certainly lose my temper at times. It was jarring to see how easily and naturally that father's actions seemed to him and how easy it is to fall into that trap.
I want to believe that that father was having a bad day and that he feels as sick as I do just thinking about what happened. I want to believe that his actions might yet have a positive effect - on teaching the boy about street safety- and on those like me who will hopefully think twice before letting frustration bubble to the surface. Life is too short to mistreat one's enemies, let alone one's loved ones. Let this be a lesson!
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