Most of us can remember singing Oh, Be Careful Little Ones What You Do as children. Maybe it was Sunday school, or maybe kindergarten. If you’re like me, you can probably still remember most of the hand motions. I didn’t realize it then, but that simple song would later echo in my mind when temptation appeared. I didn’t always listen — and I learned, the hard way, that carelessness carries consequences.

My introduction to society was marred on the very first day of school. It had rained the night before, and muddy puddles stretched across the road. One misjudged leap sent water splashing up the front of my pants. I begged my older sister to take me home so I could change, but we were already late. The children noticed immediately. From that day on, I was teased — not once, not briefly, but repeatedly — for having “peed my pants.”

I was usually the target, but by seventh grade I had learned how to survive it. I’d made a few friends, and junior high brought new kids to distract the bullies. One of them was Davy.

Davy was overweight and awkward, and he stood out the way vulnerable kids often do. We weren’t close friends, but we understood each other. Like me, he had learned how to laugh along when laughter was demanded.

One morning during recess, a group of boys began mocking him. I wanted to belong. I wanted approval. And so I joined in.

“Fatty, fatty, two by four,
Can’t get through the bathroom door!”

The boys laughed. Davy laughed too. The bell rang, and we went back to class.

No one noticed that Davy didn’t return with us — not until the sound of sirens drifted through the neighborhood, and the cries of his grieving mother followed.

Oh, be careful little tongue what you say…

Some lessons arrive too late — but they still demand to be learned.