The Breaking of the board

The little Lollygagger started Karate just under a year ago. She has learned about “stranger danger” and how to use 911 in the event of an emergency. Some really good, important stuff.

A few weeks ago she had her graduation, moving up to a class with older children. Unlike any of the other children who have moved up, she was given a task by her Karate Master.

He called her to the center of the mat, and seemed to have magically produced a square board from thin air. He asked the Lollygagger if she knew what he wanted her to do with the board.

No, no clue. It was obvious she was thinking her task with the board would come to no good and she would certainly not come out the victor, whatever he had in mind.

When he told her what he wanted her to do, she laughed with relief and told him “I can’t break a board, I’ll get a splinter, and my Momma said I should play with wood.” I honestly can’t recall ever telling her such a thing, but it sounds like something I would say.

It took a minute to convince her to do it, but she agreed. Reluctantly, but she agreed.

The Karate Master asked her to practice a few good side-kicks on his tummy before breaking the board. Well, that set her into a state of panic that I had not witnessed before. Now she’s afraid she might injure the man in front of her, who is a 3rd degree Black Belt and a Master, whatever that means. Even in her irrational state of panic, she performed her assignment admirably.

Then came the moment of truth. He held out the board. She bent her knees. Put up her little fists. Took a deeeep breath. Shouted “KEE-YAHHHH” and kicked the board with everything she had.








She broke it in two!









Every parent there was just as proud of her as they would have been for their own child. They cheered, and clapped, and expressed amazement. The Lollygagger’s Daddy and I were equally stunned.

She stood there, more surprised than anyone, not fully comprehending yet what she had just accomplished. The seconds ticked by. Then it happened. She put her hand to her mouth and started to cry. Or, I should say, I thought she started to cry. Just as I began to stand to go over and get her I realized she was laughing. Not just her sweet little giggle, but she was laughing. Really laughing.

She bowed to her Karate Master, gather up her broken board, and ran back to her Daddy, anxious to show him what she did.

Many weeks later, she is only now allowing herself to walk the house without the broken pieces of that board. She has slept with it, put it on the edge of the tub during bath time, carried it with her during long walks to the nearby lake, and gave it a place at the dinner table.

I’m so grateful she had this experience. I’m also grateful she’s stopped dragging the broken pieces of the board around. I can hardly wait to see what she does next in this excellent Karate class.