Another student was picking on a smaller classmate in the back of the bus. I was only seven years old at the time, but someone told me what was occurring and then asked me to do something about it. So I got up and proclaimed in my strongest, and very childish voice that I would stop it. I did, but it must have been a “set-up” because the “friend” who was sitting next to me on the bus opened my metal lunchbox and threw my Christmas drawings out the window. I got off the bus crying, and my mom, who was right there waiting for me, took me home and pulled out paper and crayons so that I could recreate my Christmas masterpieces which were my present to her.   I never sat next to that so called “friend” on the bus again.  ...

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