It's Time (up front tissue warning)

I have a story I want to share with you. I've been waiting. Waiting for the sign that it was time. What was I waiting for? For the first time I would hear the Christmas carol "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day." I heard it last night, so the time has come.

John Bernau was the "yucky" kid in my elementary school. He wore 2nd hand/hand-me-down clothes. He was the oldest of... a lot of boys... I really have no idea how many. His mom always seemed to be pregnant. His dad... I don't know what he did for a living but he drank away his paychecks. The family lived in a run-down, single-wide trailer. The boys all had home-done buzz cuts and mom obviously didn't have the steadiest of hands... there were always little bald spots and uneven spots.

Because of the ever-present "Alphabetical Order" in elementary school, I was next to John in everything. Including our lockers. And I'll be honest. He didn't always smell so good. He ALWAYS smelled like a stale cigarette, but sometimes even worse. He wore Converse shoes when they were NOT cool. He stuttered a little.

We kids were MEAN to him. M-E-A-N mean. We teased him, kids pushed him, they super glued the lock on his locker. We ignored him. We laughed at his stammering... we were mean.

The Christmas of 6th grade, I was chosen to sing a solo in the school Christmas program (back when you could have a public school Christmas program). I would be singing the first 2 verses of "I Heard The Bells." I'll admit, I was feeling good and smug. Then, Mrs. Ludtke rocked my world. (And NOT in a good way) She announced who would be singing the next 2 verses.

John Bernau.

I was going to have to stand, on the stage, alone, with John Bernau. My moment in the spotlight - ruined. Oh the unfairness of it all. The horror. The embarrassment.

The night came... I had on my best Christmas duds (believe it or not I do NOT think they were plaid)... I had my hair all brushed and cute holiday accessorized. I got to school and saw John. Same clothes as usual - brown cords, brown plaid shirt, blue falling-apart converse shoes.

Ugh.

The time came. John & I took the stage. The piano started, and I stepped forward to sing my part:

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old familiar carols play
And wild and sweet, the words repeat
Of peace on earth good will, to men.

I thought how as the day had come
The belfries of all Christendom
Had roll'd along th' unbroken song
Of Peace on earth, good will to men.

Then, John's verses:

And in despair, I bow'd my head:
"There is no peace on earth," I said,
"For hate is strong and mocks the song,
Of Peace on earth, good will to men."

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep;
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With Peace on earth, good will to men."

Obviously as a twelve-year-old the message was lost on me. I was still mortified to be standing there with John Bernau.

I can't tell you at what point my feelings changed. Obviously at some point I grew up and realized that John Bernau was just a sweet little boy, trapped by circumstances which were in NO WAY under his control. When he needed a friend, he got foes. When he needed encouragement, he got ignored. When he needed a smile, he got a sneer.

My heart now breaks every time I hear that song. I can't hear it and keep my eyes dry. The remorse I feel. The guilt. How horrid was I? A child who was teased herself. How could I turn around and be so mean, when I knew exactly how it felt? Sick.

I moved away from that town in 8th grade. I don't know what happened to John Bernau. I hope beyond hope that he was able to rise above all our crap. That he has gone on to a happy life. I hope he was able to break the cycle that he grew up in.

I have searched the internet for years for a listing for John Bernau. I guess I was looking for assurance that he was okay. That our stupid, idiotic, childishness didn't hurt him permanently. But I've never found anything that indicated it was he. I told Mr. B this story, and he started looking. And he found a John Bernau that lives in a town about 30 miles from where we lived. Surely it must be him, right?

So I have here a letter. Written to John Bernau, addressed to the address we found. I'm sending it today. It's not a very long letter. It's just an apology. A long over-due apology.

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep;
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With Peace on earth, good will to men."