The Playground Bully
I slam my history book closed, slide it into my desk, and head to the doorway of our seventh-grade classroom. Looking back, I spy my friend Eileen putting her books away, so I wait. When she joins me, we stroll down the long, bright hall. The late-afternoon sunlight streams through open windows that line the right-hand wall of the single-story school building for missionary kids in Nigeria. “I’m so tired of all my classes.” Eileen rubs her forehead as we…