Truth, Forgiveness...and Chocolate
For those of you following Sally’s stories with me . . .
The story you are about to read is true.
Somewhat.
The days, weeks and months of Kindergarten were peaceful. Understandably so because . . . Sally.
And it was really nothing she did . . . well, other than knock a would-be bully onto his can the first day in class. I’m not sure, but I like to think she changed the whole course of his life. And everyone else who witnessed and/or heard.
Who’s with me?
Anyway, the peaceful days continued through the fall and winter and into the spring.
Continued until what is written in the annals of Briercombe Elementary School as ‘The Day of the Doll’.
Here we go . . .
A new girl moved into the area.
A very pretty girl with long, flowing, dark hair by the name of Rachel.
Whose name became . . . Betty.
It shall all be understood . . .
It was soon very clear to the rest of us at ol’ BES that Betty was determined to vie for the position of ‘Top Girl’.
A position held—to date—by no one.
Because it’s elementary school. Geeze.
Before long, Betty (see above) was terrorizing the smaller children. Taking their toys and roughing them up.
Sally and I, engaged with our friends in a cut-throat game of Jacks, heard the scuffles. And indignant outcries.
And the tears.
Sally’s radar went off.
And so did she.
Apparently (because few of us actually saw it from start to finish) Betty had snatched little Miriam’s precious Ava—her doll/constant companion/don’t-anyone-touch-her-or-I-may-faint-and-quite-possibly-die.
With predictable results.
Sweet, golden-haired Ava held high over her head, Betty was dancing around the playground, taunting the much smaller, now copiously-weeping Miriam who was in arm-outstretched pursuit.
Suddenly, the rest of the playground fell silent and parted for the newly-arrived-on-the-scene Sally.
Betty stopped and stared at the red-faced little demon headed rapidly in her direction.
I think she managed to figure out that the tide had turned.
And it wasn’t in her favour.
Clutching the now-forgotten doll, Betty spun about and made a bee-line for the school.
And the principal’s office.
An interesting side note: It was the first (and only) time in the history of BES that a student ran ‘to’ the principal’s office.
But I digress . . .
Sally was right behind her.
With the still-weeping little Miriam, a faint and distant third.
I watched as Betty skidded around the last corner and disappeared into the school.
Now I didn’t actually witness what happened thereafter.
But there were enough reports from students who did that I’ve been able to stitch together a fairly accurate account.
Betty wasted no time asking for directions (it was a small school—finding the principal’s office was really a no-brainer), but simply charged up the hall until she happened upon her feverishly-sought goal.
She dashed in.
And took cover behind the principal’s desk.
And the principal.
Sally simply marched in and stood there, hands on her hips.
The principal looked from one girl to the other. “Erm . . . can I help you girls?”
She was a very polite principal.
Sally just raised an eyebrow in Betty’s direction.
Betty silently held out the doll.
By this time, Miriam had arrived. Still crying.
Sally snatched Ava from Betty and restored her to her rightful owner, who, clutching the doll to her small self, turned and disappeared.
Then Sally turned once more and glared at Betty.
Remember, Sally at this point was still only in kindergarten. So . . . on the shady side of five.
Betty hovered somewhere around the ‘twice-Sally’s-size’ grade three level.
One of them was obviously in charge.
And it wasn’t Betty.
For a moment, the two of them regarded each other. Then, as large tears started welling up in the bigger girl's eyes, Sally grabbed Betty’s hand and pulled her back into the hall. “Hi, Betty. I’m Sally!” she said brightly.
Betty looked at her. “Umm . . . my name’s not . . .”
“Welcome to our school, Betty. You’ll like it here! Have some chocolate.”
I have it on good authority that the principal merely shrugged and went back to what she had been doing.
I expect you’re wondering what happened to Betty?
Well, maybe this will clarify . . .
Earlier this afternoon, a delivery arrived for Sally. A fairly large package that smells deliciously of chocolate.
In the upper ‘sender’s’ corner were the words ‘Rachel. Aka Betty’.
And the addressee?
“To My Very Best Friend EVER”.
Yep. Truth. Forgiveness. And chocolate.
In the same perfect package.
Karen of Baking In A Tornado: Truth, Forgiveness, and Chocolate