To be âclear,â sometimes the truth is ânasty.â The following is adapted from the last chapter of my book, Life Lessons from the School Bus.Â
âUnexpected Truthâ
Every once in a while a bus driver, or anyone for that matter, may find himself saying, âI didnât see that one coming!â In other words, every once in a while something happens; somebody says something that you would have never imagined. Let me tell you about one of those âonce in a whileâs.â
Spitting Accusations
Kids are always doing stuff to each other to be aggravating. You have probably witnessed children throwing spit wads, taking items out of anotherâs book bag, or hiding a childâs shoe right before her stop. No? Well what about spitting on each other?
Oh, yes, children are well-accustomed to spitting on each other, especially boys. Now, they never admit to doing it; they usually blame it on the one kid with no salivary glands. But there was this one time when a boy on my bus accused a girl of spitting on him when she actually didnât. How do I know that she didnât? She showed me proof!
So, âJackâ hollered from the back of the bus, âMr. Baker! âJillâ spit on me!â Before I could rationally respond, another voice came from the back, the voice of the accused, crying, âNo I didnât â heâs lying!â Since I was in the process of driving and there was no place to pull over and deal with the situation, all I could do at the moment was respond with a simple request: âSTOP SPITTING!â
A moment passed, then Jill came up to the seat behind me (which is dangerous and against the rules, by the way). âMr. Baker,â she said in a tone laced with disgust, âI did not spit on Jack; he spit on himself after he spit on the seat.â
âWhat?â I asked. âHeâs spitting on the seat?! Thatâs gross!â Â Incidentally, this is one of those times when I find it appropriate to ask: why do people of any age find enjoyment in recreational spitting? Why waist perfectly good saliva when thereâs nothing necessarily nasty to expel from oneâs mouth?
Anyway, a moment or two later, Jack came up to share his side of the story. âMr. Baker, Jill did spit on me! See my shirt? See, this is her spitâŚshe spit on me! See?â
I couldnât argue with what I saw. There, as plain as the marks on a Dalmatian, were wet spots where something liquidy had collided with his shirt. Somebody had spit on him.
âJill!â I yelled, âWhy did you spit on Jack?â From the back of the bus came an insistent reply, âBut I didnât! He spit on himself just to get me in trouble!â
The Truth Comes Out
Whereâs Solomon when you need him? Why canât school buses be equipped with portable DNA equipment? How was I supposed to determine who spit on whom? How could I prove who needed to be punished with a stern warning and a verbal reprimand? The answer came in a way I never would have dreamed, but I will never forget.
âMr. BakerâŚâ Jill had made her way back up to the seat behind me, again while I was driving. âJill, you need to sit down!â I told her.
âBut Mr. BakerâŚâ Let me just pause here to try to describe Jillâs way of saying my name. Jill spoke with a slightly non-emotional, matter-of-fact, drawn-out southern drawl. It sounded more like âMiiis-turr Buh-ayyy-kurrâŚâ
âMr. Baker, I didnât spit on Jack; he spit on the seats and then on himself to make it look like I did it,â she said. âBut I didnât, and I can prove it.â
âReally,â I asked.
âYessir,â Jill replied. âYou see, Jack was eating green candy, and the spit on his shirt was green â mine is notâŚSEE!â
At that point, just around my right shoulder, came the arm of a little girl. Attached to that arm was a palm, and in that palm was half an ounce of spit â yes, spit! It looked like a blob of clear silicone!
âIt wasnât me that spit, âcause my spit is clear, seeeee Mr. Baker?â
I couldnât argue with her. She proved her point. There was the proof puddled in the palm of her hand, clear as day. I nearly threw up.
Life Lesson
We may not like it, but sometimes the truth is hard to stomach â and nothing like what we expected.
The simple fact is that truth isnât always pleasant; more often it is nasty. No woman wants to hear the truth when she asks, âDoes this dress make me look fat?â Â No man wants to hear the truth when he asks, âHow did I do with the laundry?â But sometimes the truth has to be told to make a difference. Unfortunately, to play off the words of Jack Nicholson in A Few Good Men, many canât handle the truth.
For example, there is a saying that goes, âYou shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.â Do you know where that saying came from? It comes from Jesus. He said, âIf you continue in my word, then you are my disciples indeed; and you shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you freeâ (John 8:31-32). The part that is hard for many to stomach is the part where He says, âIf you continue in my wordâŚâ In other words, in order to know the truth that will set one free, one must be a follower of Jesus Christ.
Some say that truth is relative, that it changes with the circumstances of life. Others have said that there is no truth, only perception (Gustave Flaubert). However, without truth there can be no lie, no wrong, and no remedy for the spit on some kidâs shirt, not to mention the darkness in our hearts. But when we follow Jesus, we can rest assured there is Truth to know, for He said in John 14:6, âI am the WAY, the TRUTH, and the LIFEâŚâ
Route Suggestions
- When faced with a tough situation, one that demands you make a wise decision, ask God for help. James 1:5 says, âIf any man lack wisdom, let him ask of GodâŚâ
- Donât ask someone to tell you the truth about how you look, how well youâre doing your job, etc., unless youâre willing to hear the truth.
- Donât âkill the messenger.â If someone does try to tell the truth, donât get angry when they say the dress makes you look fat. Just get angry because they werenât sensitive enough to change the subject.
- Read the book of John in the Bible. Make a list of the claims that Jesus made. Was He telling the truth? For the atheist or agnostic, that may be a truth too hard to handle, but it can set you free.
Oh, one more thing… When preparing to write this, I asked the girl in the story what she thought the moral should be. She said, âSometimes the truth is nasty.â
Truth.
