I had been working at the agency for over two months and was feeling pretty good. I liked working. I had a sense of accomplishment, liked the people I worked with, and felt good about bringing home a paycheck. My morning discussions with Jim were especially enriching.
Early Monday, I was sharing my reflections with Jim when my mobile phone rang. It was my son, Alex.
“Mom, don’t be mad at me,” he began. “I got in a fight with some boys on the way to school. I’m okay. I promise. I’m with a police officer right now. She wants to talk with you.”
I caught my breath. What was going on?
“Your son appears to be all right,” the officer said. “But he lost consciousness briefly and has a cut on his forehead. An ambulance is on the way. You ...