Something just happened.  Addie and William were playing happily in the backyard, we had the sliding door open so we could jump to attention in case one of them needed us.  After a little while I could hear the little girl next door, same age as Addie, join the kids.  Everything was fine.  Everyone was happy.

But then I heard Addie call from downstairs, “Mom!  William threw a rock at Lily and hurt her!” I ran downstairs, picked William up and headed toward the fence, where the kids always play.  Lily wasn’t anywhere to be found and Addie told me that she had gone inside, crying.  I held William as Addie cleared the pile of rocks from in front of the fence so I could take him to their door and have him apologize.

And there he was, Lily’s dad, storming down the path, obviously angry.

“I was just heading to your door so William could apologize to Lily, is she okay?” I asked.

He was visibly shaking, the kind of angry that takes you by surprise when you see it.  The kind of angry that raises your shackles when you know it’s directed at your kids.  “She’s hurt.  This isn’t the first time this has happened.”  He was flushed.

“What? What do you mean?” Complete confusion.

“Addie has thrown things at her twice before.  This just keeps happening.” As though my kids are the neighborhood bullies.

“Addie has?” I looked back at her, totally lost about what was happening. “Addie has thrown things at Lily?” I opened the fence and accidentally knocked over Addie’s bucket of dirt, she burst into tears and ran inside.

At this point I was trying to figure out what possibly could have been happening in the backyard with these two kids that I know are sweet and loving and know very well not to hurt other people.  As I walked across their front yard, water seeping through my socks, I just wanted to make sense of what had happened.  Their front door was open and I saw the dad walk through their family room and gingerly pick Lily up from the couch, her forehead covered with a towel wrapped ice pack.  He set her down in front of me at the front door and I knelt down with William, and asked him if he had anything to say to Lily.  “Sow-wy” he mumbled as he buried his face in my hair.

I looked at Lily, put my hand on her arm and assured her that it was not okay in our house to throw things, and certainly not okay to hurt people.  She nodded and listened nicely.  I let her know that William is still learning about throwing and certain things about how to behave, but that I knew that he would never try to hurt anyone, but that I was very sorry that she had been hurt, whether it was on purpose or not.  I told Lily, and her parents, that I had no idea that anything had happened with Addie, that I couldn’t believe that she ever would have tried to hurt anyone, especially her friend, and that I would talk to her about it.  They all listened, hovering around the front door.  There were mumbles that whatever had happened with Addie had been an accident.  Things had calmed down at this point, they were no longer pacing or looking at me like I was raising homicidal maniacs.

I asked Lily if she was okay, she said yes.  I told her parents that if they needed anything to please let me know and that I would handle things on our side of the fence.

William and I walked back to our backyard, he listened the whole way about not throwing things, about what happens when rocks hit people.  I was feeling pretty fired up as we entered Addie’s room.  Chris was already in there talking things out with Addie, she was red faced and crying on her bed.  “We need to have a family talk.” I announced as I walked in the room, setting William down and crossing my arms over my chest.  “They said you have thrown things at Lily and hit her twice.” I said, looking at my little girl, tears still on her cheeks.

“Addie told me that she has never hit Lily with anything.  She’s telling the truth.” Chris’ voice, his confidence in our daughter’s word, snapped me back to where I needed to be.  I looked at her again.  My girl.  The one who would never hurt someone on purpose.  “Is there anything that has happened that Lily has gotten hit with something, even accidentally?” She looked me in the eye as I asked her the question.

“We’ve played catch before Mommy, with that little pink bubble thing.  But it never hit her.” The pink bubble thing is about the size of my pinkie.  “I’ve never seen anything hit her, Mom.  I promise.”  She was absolutely telling the truth.

Chris and I told her that we believed her, that we trust her, and that she can always come to us no matter what.  As we were about to head upstairs, she stopped us.

“William was just throwing the rock over the fence, he wasn’t trying to hit Lily.”  We told her that we figured that was what happened, and thanked her for telling us.  “He said he threw it, but I don’t think he understands.”  Our girl, looking out for her little brother.

Upstairs, it hit me, the defensiveness.  The need to protect my babies and let those people know that what they had said about my kids was not true.  I wanted to go over there and stop them from thinking that my kids are troublemakers, or that their daughter isn’t safe playing with them.  I wanted to tell them that they were wrong.  That Lily hadn’t told the truth, that Addie had never thrown things at her and that William was just throwing the rock over the fence.  I wanted them to look me in the eye and understand, my kids, my kids are not to be spoken about like this.

Chris talked me down, of course, that’s what he does.  He promised me that if he ever sees the dad outside he would work it into the conversation.  He would say something.  It would have to be enough, my going over there was not going to solve anything.  I had said my piece, I had apologized and said it would be taken care of.  And it was.  I spoke to my kids, I believed what they said, it was done.

But even now, I can’t quiet the mama bear growling inside me.  When Addie said she wanted me to go over there and tell them that she hadn’t hit Lily, I told her I couldn’t do that, but that she could.  I told her that if she saw them outside she could politely, calmly, assure them that playing catch with Lily was the only thing that had ever happened and she had never seen her get hit, anywhere, at all.  That she wouldn’t throw something at anyone.

I told Addie that just as she should stand up for herself with other kids, she can stand up for herself with adults as well.

And I know that the truth lies somewhere in the middle, on the fence between their house and ours.  I know that Lily didn’t lie, but neither did Addie.  When I step back and put myself in their shoes, with the information they had,  I can understand why they reacted the way they did.  We all want to protect our kids.  But this changes things, for me.  I will do what I can to protect them, to guide them, to teach them that sometimes they will need to stand up for themselves and know that they can tell their truth.  They can protect their integrity.

And I will try to keep mama bear inside, no matter how loud she growls.  Because there will be times that I won’t be right there, and my kids will need to know what to do.  They will need to know that their voice matters.  And my kids’ voices will be heard.