Callused
cal·lused
ˈkaləst/
adjective
2. insensitive; indifferent; unsympathetic:
They have a callous attitude toward the sufferings of others.
3. having a callus; indurated, as parts of the skin exposed to friction.
A female student
of mine was dragged into my classroom by two of her housemates
yesterday morning. They shoved her over the threshold of
my classroom, closed the door behind her, and held the door closed so
she could not escape.
All of this
happened as I sat at my desk, wondering, What is going on?
The night before, I had a
conversation with this girl about her bad actions. She had chosen not
to participate in the Bunco game after bible study – complaining
that it was a boring game, and all she wanted to do was watch TV. She then said some choice words to her tia and some
choice Spanish expletives under her breath. I tried to talk through
those actions with her, adding that “Because I love you, I
am sad to see you acting this way – it will not serve you well in
life.”
Her response was
to yell “No, you do not love me!” and go to her
room, slamming the door behind her. I found out later that she spent
the night ripping up every photo and letter that I have given her
over the last 3 years. She threw them into the trash and gave away
her bible, which was a Christmas gift from me.
And now, she is trapped inside of my classroom, being forced to speak
to me by two of her friends.
It was juvenile
and a bit awkward, yes. But it worked … sort of.
Me:
Why are you mad at me?
Girl:
You know why I am mad at you.
Me:
Please tell me in your own words so that I can apologize.
Girl:
No! You know why, and I'm never going to talk with you.
She opened the
door and left, with her two friends shaking their heads and saying,
“We tried, Bailey.”
Twenty minutes
later, the girl returned to my classroom on her own. She sat in a
desk and stared at me.
Me:
Why are you mad at me?
Girl:
You know why!
Me:
I want to hear it from your own words. I know that last night I
tried to talk with you about your bad behavior, but you got mad.
Because I love you, it made me sad to see you doing things that
aren't good for you.
Girl:
Don't say that! I hate when people tell me they love me when I do something bad. You
don't really mean it.
Me:
I do mean it! It is because I care about you that I don't like
when you do wrong things.
Girl:
You don't care about me.
Me:
I don't think you really believe that. If I didn't care about you,
we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. And if I didn't care,
I wouldn't spend every afternoon with you at your casita.
Girl:
You don't come to the casita to see me. You come to see the other
girls.
Me:
I do go to see everyone, yes. But I have chosen to invest
specifically into you, because you are special to me.
At
that last comment, the corners of her mouth widened into a smile.
Girl:
Why?
Me:
Because you are a leader.
Girl:
(with
unbelief in her eye)
I'm
not a leader.
Me: Yes,
you are. When you speak, people listen. When you are positive, so
is everyone else, but when you are negative, the others follow.
We
continued to speak for several minutes. Then she stopped and thought
about what she would say next.
Girl: I
think I've decided not to be your friend from this day forward.
I
don't know what I expected to come out of her mouth, but that was not
it! I can't say that I was surprised, either. This girl has a history
of hurting others with her words, then laughing at the after-effects, as if she herself isn't hurting inside. I chose my next words carefully.
Me: If
that is your decision, it will make me sad. But I will never stop
being your
friend. I do love you, and I will always be here with open arms.
Girl:
(confused
at why she didn't get an angry reaction) You
don't understand. I'm telling you that we won't be friends anymore.
I won't talk to you ever again.
Me:
Oh, I understand. But I will always be your friend. Even if you
don't talk to me, I will still say, “Hello!” everyday. I'll
still ask you how you are, even if you don't answer. And I will
still be here with my arms open for a hug whenever you want one. I
will be sad that you don't see me as your friend, but I will always
be your
friend. I love you.
Just then, a few students walked into my
classroom to ask me a question. While I was speaking with them, she
got up and walked out of my classroom. I
guess that is it, I thought. I guess I've lost her.
The rest of the
school day went by, and I didn't see her. The bell rang for the end
of classes, and I continued to sit at my desk to finish some work. But when I looked up, she was once again standing in my doorway. This time, she had a smile on
her face.
Girl: I'm
sorry.
I
smiled, walked over to her, and put my arms around her. At first,
she just stood there. Then she hugged me back. I looked down at
her.
Me: I
forgive you.
We
hugged again.
Me: I'm
so happy we are still friends!
We
both laughed, and she asked me if I would come to her casita later. I told her yes, and she left.
Over the years, this girl has trusted people
who have let her down. She has loved family, friends, missionaries,
and week-long volunteers who have left her with a broken promise of
return.
As a result, her heart has become callused, indifferent, unfeeling. She has
decided that instead of loving others and accepting love from others,
she will reject anyone who tries to get close to her. She has
decided not to believe that people love her, because they always fail
in the end. And what is even more heartbreaking is that she refuses
to believe – she can't
believe – that there
is a God in heaven who loves her and is always fighting for her,
always standing with open arms waiting for her to run to him.
Pray
for the girl with a callused heart. Bit by bit, I am watching those
hard, shielding layers around her begin to soften. I do
believe that one day, she will accept that God loves her and wants a
relationship with her. And when that day comes, I have told her to
let me know. I'll need to replace the bible she gave away.
