The New Guy

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By Charles Mills

“Little by little, many of the students who, at first, liked to hang out with the new guy, started staying away from him.”

Jared stood and stared at the new guy. This smiling stranger had arrived just last week and was already on the best baseball team. The teacher had called on him twice to read a poem in English class, and he’d made Jared’s friend Tommy laugh so hard at lunch he’d squirted milk out of his nose.

So what if he was from another country? So what if he spoke with a strange accent? So what if he could run faster than a whitetailed deer? The fact was, Jared didn’t like him because when the new guy was around, no one paid attention to him.

Well, the boy thought with a frown, no one is coming into my school and taking over my spot as the most popular fifth-grader. Something has to be done! But Jared didn’t want to tell lies about the new guy. He was a Christian, and Christians don’t lie.

So, instead, he had an idea. He’d tell the truth, but in a way that would make people think twice about being friends with the new guy.

“Sure, he runs fast,” Jared said after the new guy had stolen second base during a game later that week, “but I’ve never seen him hit a homerun.”

“I don’t like his accent,” Jared whispered during English class. “Yes, he can speak English, but there are many words he says that I don’t understand.”

“Some people think he’s funny,” Jared sighed as he watched the new guy entertaining those seated at his lunch table in the cafeteria, “but I find his jokes childish. I like sophisticated jokes— you know, like on television.”

“Sure, the new guy got a good grade in science. But his dad is a janitor, so he can’t be all that smart.”

“Oh look. The new guy has a new pair of running shoes. Probably stole them.”

“Did you see on the news that the country the new guy is from just invaded another country and they killed a bunch of people? No sir. I’m not going to trust the new guy. He might want to kill me!”

It worked

And, it worked. Little by little, many of the students who, at first, liked to hang out with the new guy, started staying away from him. Whispered stories began to circulate about his family, his past, and even his love for America. Soon, the new guy became someone to shun, to shame, and to ridicule.

Finally, the new guy had no one left to sit with him at lunch. No one chose him to be on their baseball team, and when the teacher asked him to read a poem in English class, he spoke so quietly that no one could hear him. His confidence and his smile had vanished.

But Jared wasn’t celebrating. He recognized what he had done, and the thought that he’d hurt the new guy so deeply bothered him, especially at night when he couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t told lies, but he hadn’t told the whole truth either. He realized that wasn’t how a Christian was supposed to act.

So, the very next day, Jared carried his tray to the lunch table where the new guy ate alone. He sat down, smiled, and told a funny joke. The new guy smiled and told another one. Jared laughed right out loud. “Tell the one about the dog and the goat,” Jared invited. “I really like your jokes.”

When the new guy told the story about the dog and the goat, Jared laughed, and so did the students sitting at the next table, and the next.

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