Every day, teachers saw a 9-year-old child digging in the ground and concealing something in a hole. When they discovered what he was buried, everyone was appalled
The curious behavior of one of the pupils, 9-year-old Max, had been observed by the teachers for a number of days. He would go to the rear of the schoolyard, where hardly anyone ever went, every day after class.
Max would kneel down at that very location and start digging in the earth with his bare hands, disregarding the dirt beneath his fingernails or the scratches on his skin. After ten minutes or so of digging, he would carefully put something in the hole, cover it with dirt, and smooth it over as if nothing had been done. After that, he would depart.
The teachers initially believed he was merely having fun. Particularly at that age, children can be peculiar. But Max did it every day, at the same time, in the same place, and with the same motions, with a haunting accuracy. It wasn’t a game.
A teacher at a primary school eventually lost it. She hid behind the trees and silently followed Max after the bell. Max proceeded to the rear of the yard as usual, knelt down, excavated a little pile of dirt, and then removed a plastic bag from his backpack and inserted it into the hole. Then he straightened it out and buried it once again.
The instructor couldn’t contain herself. She called him as she went outside:
— Max Why are you here?
The boy winced. He looked at her fearfully at first, as though he had been caught in the act of committing a crime, and he said nothing. Then he muttered…
What the teacher heard appalled her
— I’m hiding.
What is being concealed?
After a brief period of silence, he gestured to the floor:
— Schoolbooks Every day I bring them here and bury them. so my father won’t discover them.
The instructor knelt next to him. He avoided looking into her eyes.
Why don’t you want your father to track them down?
– When he drinks, he becomes mean. He once tore everything, even the notes and books. He advised me to cook and mop the floors instead of studying. However, I’d like to learn. School is something I adore. And I won’t be able to if he tears it up again.
The instructor was unable to breathe. The boy, who was emaciated and had scratches on his hands, told her this as if it were a routine story, as if he were stating that it had rained the day before.
She was at a loss for words. She just gave Max a hug and assured him that he would never be left alone again.
