You told me about a little boy you knew.
He was very young and his father had just died suddenly. His wise and compassionate mother thought it best to keep him in the routine he was used to, so she chose to take him to the mothers coffee morning where he always enjoyed playing with his friends while the parents chatted.
That day, however, he was disruptive and aggressive, causing the other mothers to tut and huff and make surreptitious comments about his mother’s lack of discipline.
His mother didn’t blame the women. She hadn’t told them that his Father had been taken from them.
Neither did she blame him.
His subconscious mind still controlled his emotions and he was not capable yet of rationale.
Instead, when his behaviour became out of control, she scooped him up, cuddled him to her and whispered soothing things into his hair. He curled into her like a much smaller thing and she knew it was time to go.