The Red Head

I wanted to write this story for quite some time. It happened at the elementary school I worked at last year.

In the first grade class, there was this cute little red head boy. He was quite a spunky fellow who was always the first to volunteer for any activity, holler whatever English words that would pop into his head, and dance and do spins on the ground whenever hip hop was played. He was also the first to throw up his hands in despair and give up. Quite a rumbustious personality. I liked him.

On this supposedly normal day, he had been complaining about a stomach ache. He would hold his stomach painfully and walk around like an old man. As the rest of the class worked on their projects, he would sit in his chair in quiet misery, staring numbly down at his desk. The teachers had wondered if they should send him home and ultimately decided to wait till recess, because 'recess cures almost all illnesses'. Still, I kept watching him from the corner of my eye, making sure he was alright. He pretty much just stayed quiet (which was quite abnormal for him).

About halfway through the class, his face suddenly lit up. He got really excited, ripped a small piece of paper from his notebook and wrote something feverishly on it. Then, grabbing the paper with his two hands, he raised it up into the air and, with a desperate look in his eyes, stared pleadingly up at the ceiling. Then, he quickly slammed this piece of paper on his forehead. He'd leave it there for a moment, then smack his head a couple of times with it and raise it up into the air again and continued to stare up into the sky. He did this a couple more times.

I couldn't hold on to my curiosity any longer so I walked up to him and asked, 'What are you doing?' He gave me this dirty look and shot one finger at me, silently telling me not to interrupt. I waited and continued watching him smack his head some more. Then, the bell rang. Recess time! So he jumped up with the rest of his class and ran out of the classroom.

I was left dumb struck, stunned by the spectacle as well as the sudden end of it. What exactly just happened here? Then I noticed that he had left the small piece of paper on the table. I picked it up and read it. It said:

'Dios, por favor cure.'

'God, please heal.'

Do you believe it? The red head was praying for God to cure him! But not in the normal let's-put-our-hands-together-and-pray. No, not for this boy. Instead, he choose to write it on a piece of paper and smash it on his head. It was great!

When I told the story to the other teachers, they obviously laughed. The Religion teacher said she was proud. He'd learned to ask God for everything.

As for the kid, I'm not sure if praying that way helped, but he made it through the day. As for me, I now have a memory that makes me laugh every time I think about it. And I also have something that reminds me of him... I kept the note. :-)