Ben was the kind of kid you could not help liking. He was so hyper he could wear you out in 15 minutes. He overheard a teacher lamenting her accidentally catching her cat’s tail in the door. He never saw her without accusing her of being a “cat killer”. She would always say, “You need to be glad you don’t have a tail like a cat.” And I would always laugh at the look on his face. The cat, by the way, pulled its bruised appendage out and went right on.
He and his brother lived with his grandmother; his mother was in prison for murder. He would regale the other kids with tales of her stabbing a man who broke into their house. It was a good story filled with maternal love and concern. I talked to his grandmother often. She loved him but she couldn’t keep him off the streets and in a weird way, she was happier when he was with us because she knew he was safe.
I was in the classroom one afternoon doing the ever blessed paperwork that wore me out quicker than Ben. He was supposed to be on the basketball court so I was surprised when he burst into the room.
“Mrs. Hall, I want to tell you something.” I felt as if they never stopped telling me things. I waited with what I prayed was patience.
“My mama didn’t kill a man. She was high on drugs and she killed my baby brother.”
“Oh, Lord. Lord help me. He’s a child. I don’t know what to say.”
For once, I kept my mouth shut and looked at him.
“I still love her,” he announced with a hint of defiance.
“God loves her, too.”
I’m crying now as I remember the hope that flickered across his face.
“I’m sure of that, Ben. He loves her and you and your grandmama and brother. He wants you to love your mother.”
My boss gave me immediate permission to contact the prison housing his mother. I’d worked in corrections so long, they knew me and rather quickly worked it out for him to speak to her. I talked to her first and told her how much he loved her. She was living in a faith based dorm and was eager to speak to him. I called him into the office.
“Your mama wants to talk to you, Ben.”
“My real mama?”
“Your real mama.”
In a movie, she’d be paroled to reform and save him. I’m sure they’re probably both still confined somewhere. I take great comfort in the fact that God does indeed love not only Ben and his mother but also me. I pray both of them feel the comfort of that love.
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