Tears

A1 is a crier.  This is no secret to anyone who has spent any amount of time with her.  Her ability to cry at the drop of a hat is somewhat amazing.  She can go from perfectly happy giggly girl to a blubbering puddle of a person in a matter of seconds.  This special talent of hers drives me crazy.  I try my best to be patient with her but once my shoulder is sopping wet from her tears I start to cry myself. 
Tonight was one of those nights where A1's eyes were broken faucets.  She met me at the door crying because she accidentally took someone's backpack home. She cried when she didn't have her homework.  She cried when she had to take the backpack back.  She cried when the teacher handed her her backpack.  She cried when A2 made fun of her for being a backpack thief.  She cried when I told her to do her homework.  She cried after a guest left our house.  She cried when her "sticky hand" prize got stuck to the ceiling.  She cried when she broke her easel. She cried when I didn't yell at her for breaking the easel.
I was searching Pinterest for blueprints for an arc when the flow started again.  This time she wasn't able to explain what happened.  I questioned A2, for some reason she usually knows the source of A1's tears.  A2 didn't have any clue.  A1's tears paused after a few minutes.  She was able to tell me about some other 2nd grade kids who were being mean to a boy who didn't talk very well. She said they were telling him to pick his nose and eat it and when he did they laughed a him. She was heartbroken that kids would be so mean to someone like this boy.  Then she was crying because instead of telling the kids not to be mean any more she waited and told a teacher.  She felt like she was being a bad friend to this boy.  She was disappointed in herself.  I told her that she should stand up to bullies but it wasn't always a good idea to confront them alone.  I wanted her to know that she did the right thing by telling the teacher.  I suggested that  maybe tomorrow she can sit by this boy at lunch or ask him to play at recess.
I told her to be a good friend and that others will follow her lead but it might be tough.  Let's face it.  Some people are just horrible people.  I think it all starts in second grade.  It is the point when people have to choose good or bad, be nice or awful. Thinking about some of the adult bullies in my life, I bet if we search for their second grade teachers they would cringe at the memory of little So and So.  I am glad that A1 is a tender heart. I don't think she will choose to treat people badly, unless they happen to be related to her... She really is a good kid, however; I think I will buy stock in the Kleenex company.