I Hunted You Down

Dear People in the Black Car,

You have no idea who I am--let me tell you. I am the Mama of the young girl you harassed on Sunday afternoon.  You may not even remember it; it very well could have been just a passing moment in your life, a moment where you got to laugh a little.  But let me tell you it was a big moment in our lives, we remember--you probably continued your afternoon going to a party, a pool or relaxing.  We didn't.

Let me remind you what happened--a young girl was out running and you drove up next to her and started clapping and laughing--and no, you were not trying to be encouraging.  She didn't look at you; if she had, you would have seen how beautiful she was despite the tears in her eyes.  Just so you know, she is equally beautiful on the inside.  Well she stopped running; she walked home with her sister, and she went to her room.

The rest of us seethed with anger; we shook with anger, and we (okay just me) cried hot angry tears. Not one of the six of us was left untouched by you because well, because We are the O'Doyles.  I decided to go out and look for you, my husband went with me.  (My 17 year old son wanted to go too--we couldn't let that happen.)  We didn't find you, but make no mistake, we tried to hunt you down.

Last night my anger returned, see, you've forgotten this incident but we haven't and last night my eldest daughter for the first time in weeks, went running by herself--our beautiful younger daughter opted out, and so my anger resurfaced with a vengeance.  But you don't win, she's going tonight. Anyway, as my anger coarsed through my veins I thought about writing this letter and what I wanted to tell you.

I would tell you how amazing this young girl is, how she has more strength, courage, and joy than most people ever experience.  I would tell you how this girl lost a pinky, was viciously attacked by a dog, and almost died having her tonsils removed.  I would tell you how this year she has suffered three concussions and has had to sit out most of the three seasons of sports she loves.  And I would tell you how she still went to every game to cheer on her teammates. I would tell you how she had to give up every form of exercise, how she had to give up trips with friends, and many other things that a 14 year old shouldn't have to give up and that she did it with humor and grace.  I would tell you that for the last 18, yes 18 days she has not missed one day of exercise with her sister as they laugh their way through getting in shape.  I would tell you that perhaps that is what you found so funny--that a young girl wasn't in "tip top shape."  I wonder if you are?

As I was washing my face I thought I would tell you you will not break this girl, this young girl, this girl whom I'm certain you have now forgotten, is a child of God, created in the image of God and she is fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14).  And then it hit me, and it hit me hard.  So are you.  I didn't like thinking about you that way...

This isn't a letter about forgiveness; I'm not there yet.  I suspect that young girl you found so "amusing" will forgive you long before her daddy or I do--that's the kind of girl she is.  But this morning as I was thinking about you and composing this letter in my head I thought to myself, "If someone did something like this to you do you have someone who would want to hunt them down?"  I hope so--that's as close as I can get to forgiveness...


Working on forgiveness,
Mama Doyle