One Nation Under Fire
She was five and he was an adult, albeit a very drunk adult. More than that, he was sitting in her play area and the manner in which he looked at her was not appropriate.
When she first saw him, she was afraid and turned to run away. But, on the third step, something inside of her snapped. A voice inside her spoke with awesome authority. “No, no, no, he will not claim your land, and he will not look at you in that manner.”
With that firmly established in her head, she turned and retraced her steps with a fierce resolve. Marching directly to where he sat, she kicked the beer can from his hand. And then she began to pelt him with dirt clods.
The shock of her action and the sting of the clods hastened his cursed filled retreat.
“I’ll be back!” he shouted.
“And I’ll still be here!” she retorted, as her arms turned like windmills pitching grenades.
From that moment, she lived with an inner conviction which empowered her to always oppose injustice.
This is the way she says it, “Sometimes, you just have to kick the can.” I call it a variation of the motto,
“Shut up and do something.”