The ten-year-old girl stood terrified against the big oak tree. Tears left tracks down her dirt-stained face and her heavy breathing broke the silence of the dense woods around her. She was alone. There was no one to hear her screams and rescue her. All she had was the small stick she held in her tiny sweaty hand and the courage she held in her heart. Her courage was great for one so young, but her bravery could not stop the fear that crept up inside her dry parched throat as she stared at the raging bull pawing the ground in front of her.
For two years this tyrant had chased her every time he came close to her on this ranch. On many occasions she had simply out run him to the nearest shelter. Whether it was a tree that had a ladder leaned against it for the turkeys to roost, or a barn fence she could climb over and escape her tormenter.
But today the bull had caught her in the woods by surprise. She had not thought he would be in the tree covered acreage where she had built her playhouse. In fact, that was the sole reason she chose the densely wooded area. She thought him to fat and lazy to wander through the underbrush. But there he stood before her, pawing the ground and snorting through his snot filled nose as he gazed at her through his huge angry eyes.
What am I going to do ? She thought. I’m much too far from the house for Momma to hear me yelling for her.
The girl remembered the many times, in the past when her mother had come to her rescue. She would scream and her mother would hear her and come running, while waving her arms and yelling at the bull. When the bull saw the creature screeching as she came at him, with her apron flapping in the breeze, the distraction made him forget about his young target.
But today Momma was nowhere in sight and too far away to rescue her. She was on her own.
She felt the rough, short stick she had picked up in her hand as she gently tapped it against her leg. It felt so small, and she laughed at herself. What made her think she could ward off this huge beast with such a little stick. Her heart sank as she looked at the monster before her. Oh, how she wished she had chosen a spot closer to the house to build her playhouse, but it was too late now.
The bull lowered his head, gave a big snort and walked right up to her. Terror was erupting inside her small body. When he was within three feet of her, with all her strength, she raised the stick and brought it down squarely between his eyes.
Much to her surprise the bull stopped, shook his head and backed up. She shouted, “You want another swat, you just keep coming. You’ll go the way of Mother’s rooster. He lays buried in the cow lot for flogging me every time I got outside.”
The once seething bull shook his head and walked away. He kept looking back at the small creature but made no effort to return to his once intended target.
Much to the young girl’s surprise, the bull never chased her again. The lesson learned that day would be one she would remember all her life.
The object lesson is very simple; most bullies can be stopped if you hit them hard enough between their eyes.
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