A little up; a little down

Let us put aside, for now, the tedium and vexation of all things political. Instead, I shall shine a light on two minor aspects of my life, one a cause for mild sadness and world-weariness, the other an antidote to that weariness.

Today, LittleBear's football team had a friendly football match. It's half-term and there are no "official" fixtures, so Coach arranged a friendly against another local team. Our boys played well, had fun, encouraged each other, listened well, and were generally a source of great pride. And at the end, the opposition coach refused to shake hands with us. Apparently, there was some level of misunderstanding that was certainly not down to us (I've read the thread of messages exchanged before the match). The opposition were expecting us to be a "development side" and at the end we were sworn at and told we had "wasted their time" by being more experienced than expected.

I was dumbfounded to start with. I haven't even bothered visiting "angry" but have just moved to deep sadness. Why are people so horrible? Why does sport have the tendency to bring out the worst in people? Is this what I will continue to face if I stay in voluntary coaching?

And now for the brighter side of humanity...

Earlier this term, LittleBear's school had a harvest festival. Fortunately(?) this year I didn't have an opportunity to listen to them singing about broad beans in blanket-y beds, or big, red, combine-harvesters. Unfortunately, because of the absence of this auditory treat, I also didn't have the mental prompt to provide LittleBear with a donation of food for the local night shelter. I discussed this with LittleBear over dinner one day, and he told me that it probably didn't matter as they had a huge pile of food collected. We then mused that perhaps that in itself wasn't ideal, and that perhaps they end up with lots of food at Harvest and Christmas and not enough the rest of the year. And it was at this point that LittleBear warmed the cockles of my old and jaded heart.

"Mummy? You know how last year we did that reverse calendar thing* at Christmas and put food in a box?"

"Yes? Would you like to do that again this year?"

"I think we should do that but not at Christmas. Can we do it for the month running up to my birthday, and then again running up to mid-summer's day? I don't think many people will donate things in November or the middle of summer."

And so it is that today, while putting in an on-line grocery order, I have been transcribing a list of things in my lovely boy's handwriting to buy for the local food bank. Every day for the last ten days he has added an item to the list, after consulting the food bank website to discover what they need.

So, yes, some people are horrible. But I am blessed beyond measure that my LittleBear is not one of them**.


* My attempts to make sure Christmas isn't simply a festival of consumerism involves us having a reverse advent calendar - every time LittleBear opens a day of his calendar, we put something into a box to go to the food bank. Sometimes it's a nominal "put a thing in the box" and actually we buy several things at once and put them all in, having written them down on the day.

** Maybe this counts as the most appalling level of bragging about what an angel my son is. He's not, he's just a small boy with a big heart. And sometimes that big heart, and excess of empathy, means life is difficult for him to cope with, but sometimes it means he makes choices I think are bloody brilliant, and I love him to bits. And this is my blog, so once in a while I'll brag about my baby.