My Sweet Boy...

I was in the back of my son's Sunday School class on Sunday just observing the organized chaos that comes when trying to instruct a herd of children squished into ties and tights. It was so interesting to see the different personalities, interests, and behaviors of such a large group of kids. I watched my Caden, thinking how incredibly handsome and grown up he looked. Six years old and he has a heart of gold. Things come tough for him sometimes. He is in first grade and has been in speech therapy for over a year, did six months of occupational therapy, and we are trying to get a proper assessment of a few other difficulties he faces. Everyone says how incredibly bright he is but focusing is such a challenge for him that it doesn't always translate on paper and he is starting to become aware of that. I worry over him constantly. He is so kind and sensitive but also really tough. He still wants snuggles and hugs and is quick with an "I love you". He sees the best in everyone and I want so badly for the world to only see the best in him. I am so afraid that the world will beat him down for not fitting into some predetermined mold. Tonight, remembering Sunday, I rest a little easier. Caden was talking to the boy next to him and the kid looked at Caden and said mockingly, "you talk like a baby". My first instinct was to jump up and correct the behavior, comfort my son, and undo any damage that he might have sustained, but before I could even move, I heard my son reply, "no I don't. I talk like Caden".
I felt like crying. First, out of pride that my boy was so self assured that he was not flattened by unkindness, but also out of sadness because I can't hold the unkindnesses of the world at bay.
Children come into the world completely confident in their beauty, their perfection, their divinity. It is a physical ache to know that the world will try to beat that knowledge out of them. I knew it would happen, but I didn't expect the assault to happen so quickly. Six years old. Shouldn't he have a couple of more years untouched?
Like I said, I was so proud of the way my son held up against the small attack, but how often is he attacked in little ways that I don't see? A physical ache. As I write this I want to crawl in bed with him and whisper in ear how much God loves him, how much his family loves him, how grateful we are that he is ours, how funny and kind he is, how smart and inventive he his, how he is the best big brother his sisters every could have asked for, how he can do anything he sets his mind to, how he talks just like a Caden should.