Daughter pulls off the wig of a girl with cancer, father forces her to shave her hair as punishment

As parents, we tend to teach our children to know right from wrong, but oftentimes, because of different reasons, we fail. One father learned that his daughter was bullying a girl who had cancer at school. Things went far and she even pulled the girl’s wig off. This made the father angry so he decided to take matters in his own hands and punished his daughter in a way that caused a stir, as well as mixed emotions, on the Internet. Since many slammed him for how he dealt with his bully daughter, the father later deleted the post.

“My ex-wife and I have a 16-year-old daughter together of which I have full custody (she has moved on with her new family)… My daughter recently got in trouble at school for making fun of a student that lost her hair from cancer treatment. Including pulling off her wig,” he started his post.

“Apparently there is some pre-existing bad blood between the two of them, but I don’t think that even begins to excuse her behavior.”

Representational Image (Source: Getty Images | Photo by Dianne Avery Photography)

As it turned out, his daughter was now dating this other girl’s ex-boyfriend and that was the reason why they weren’t fond of each other.

“At some point the other girl mentioned how my daughter’s boyfriend was just using her for sex (this was actually a big shock to me as I had no idea she was sexually active) and called my daughter a sl*t,” the father shared with CafeMom. “That’s what escalated the situation and resulted in the wig incident. Supposedly they have been arguing in class ever since my daughter started dating the guy in question. Basically just stupid teenage ‘he said she said’ nonsense.”After he learned of what was going on and what his daughter did, he gave her two options to choose from in order to teach her a lesson. The first one was for him to throw all her electronics away, and the second one was for her to go to the hairdresser and get a bald haircut. The daughter chose the latter and went to school with a bald head.

“…Everyone thinks I went way overboard. Her mother went ballistic at me saying it will make her the target of bullying (kind of the point, teach her some compassion),” the father wrote.

He believed he did just the right thing, but not many agreed with him. A lot of people took their time to comment on the situation. One person wrote: “Your daughter is a bully because you are a bully. I seriously doubt this is the first time you used abuse and humiliation to ‘teach her a lesson.’” Another person added: “There’s a term for what you did. It’s called child abuse. Taking away her electronics would have been an appropriate punishment. Grounding her would have been an appropriate punishment. Disrespecting her right to bodily autonomy and humiliating her is not an appropriate punishment. She’s unlikely to learn from it and if anything it risks perpetuating a cycle of bullying.”

Representational Image (Source: Getty Images | Photo by Svetlana Popova)

However, there were also those who praised his parenting. “I support your decision completely. You’re her parent so you have every right to do this, it’s not abusive, it’s real life. If she’s comfortable attacking someone for something they have no choice over she needs to see how it feels,” someone in support of the father wrote.

“She will see what kind of impact actions like hers have on the victim and that will teach her a very important lesson,” another supporter added.

So, what do you think? Do you believe the father went too far with the punishment? Share your thoughts with us in the comment section below.

Cover image: Representational (Source: Getty Images | Photo by Claudia Evans / EyeEm)

Cashier Mocks Elderly, Low-Income Woman – Fate Intervenes, Transforming Her Life Profoundly

Not too long ago, on a routine trip to the neighborhood grocery shop, I had a series of encounters that turned my life completely upside down. The cashier on this particular day treated me with a level of disrespect that was unexpected and unpleasant, probably due to personal sorrow or prejudice stemming from my lowly appearance. In the end, this traumatic experience taught me a profound and life-changing lesson that I feel obligated to impart to others.

Though most people who know me refer to me as Maggie, my name is Margaret. Having moved away from my family and now living alone, I now consider the simple pleasure of a fresh bun—which I had ventured to the grocery for on that fateful day—to be a little but meaningful indulgence. My ordinarily peaceful days are somewhat cheered up by these small pleasures.

I was shocked and disappointed to see that I had misplaced the two dollars I needed to finish my transaction when I got to the checkout. I started hurriedly digging through my purse for any spare change that may work, completely overwhelmed with panic.

The cashier gave me a mocking, impatient look as she saw my desperate quest. Old lady, hurry up. She said harshly, “Stop wasting our time if you can’t afford it. Her words sliced through me, making me feel even more embarrassed as I was burdened by other customers’ critical looks. I felt a thick quiet descend upon me as embarrassment blazed across my face.

I was about to give up, feeling hopeless and overwhelmed by the whole thing, when something unexpected happened. A display of canned goods was knocked over by the cashier, who was so eager to get rid of me and help the next client. Everyone’s focus was momentarily diverted from me to the mess by the loud clatter of the cans as they hit the floor.

As the chaos started, a worried client said, “Watch out!” Now clearly agitated, the cashier rushed to pick up the cans but, in her haste, tripped and fell, bringing attention to herself even more. For a moment, I was relieved of the humiliation I was feeling because of this chaotic event.

A good-natured stranger moved forward as the store took a minute to take in the scene. Having seen the entire encounter, he approached to offer his assistance out of compassion. “Please, allow me to purchase this bun for you,” he added, smiling softly as if to alleviate some of the harshness I had just encountered. He then extended the bun in my direction.

I was grateful for his compassion and experienced a slight sense of validation that the cashier’s impolite behavior had not gone undetected. I managed to add, “Thank you so very much,” my voice quivering a little from a mixture of relief and appreciation. “You don’t know how much this means to me right now.”

“There’s really no issue at all,” he comforted me. “By the way, my name is John.”

I answered, “Margaret, but please call me Maggie,” feeling a little lighter as his generosity broke through the darkness of the earlier moments.

That’s when John started genuinely caring about me. “Do you live nearby?” he worriedly asked.

Indeed, I answered, “just around the corner.” “Now that I’m single, my family has moved on without me.”

John said, “That’s hard to hear,” with sympathy. “What were your activities prior to retiring?”

“I taught chemistry,” I said, experiencing a brief moment of pride for the first time in a long time.

John’s curiosity caused his eyes to expand. “Wow, that is amazing! My girls are having a lot of difficulty in their chemistry classes as they pursue their medical degrees. With hope, he inquired, “Would you be interested in tutoring them?”

My surprise was caused by the proposition. I hadn’t taught in years, so the idea of rekindling my love of chemistry and the classroom was both thrilling and intimidating. I said, “I would be honored,” feeling a glimmer of excitement flare up within of me. “It would be amazing to connect with young minds that are eager to learn and to feel useful again.”

“It’s amazing!” John shouted. “Let’s trade contact details. I hope to see you soon, along with Sarah and Emily. They would really benefit from your knowledge.

After exchanging phone numbers, John graciously offered to drive me home. We talked further about my previous experiences as a teacher and his children’ academic aspirations and challenges while we drove. I felt like I had made a new friend by the time he left me off at my humble home; someone who valued me more than my age or my financial situation.

I added, “Thank you once more, John,” as I got out of his vehicle. You’ve given me more than simply a bun today. I feel like I have a purpose again because of you.

“You’re welcome, Maggie,” he smiled warmly in response. “I’ll give you a call shortly to set up the initial tutoring session time.”

With a renewed sense of optimism and expectation, I watched him drive off. I felt appreciated and could see a way forward where I could once again make a significant contribution for the first time in a very long time.

I experienced a profound sensation of rejuvenation as soon as I entered my home. I proceeded to my bedroom and unlocked my wardrobe, revealing my former teaching attire. They were still in good shape, tucked in nicely like they were just waiting to be put to use. I picked out a crisp blouse and skirt, and as I put on my clothes, enthusiasm and nostalgia for my teaching days returned. It seemed as though I was resuming a function that had previously defined me and that I had assumed had been abandoned but was now emerging as a guiding light for the future.

I visited with Sarah and Emily, John’s daughters, the following day. They were intelligent, motivated students who were ready to take in all I had to teach them. I was so happy and satisfied tutoring them that it made me remember why I had loved teaching for so long. As we dug further into the nuances of chemistry over the course of the weeks, I saw a marked improvement in their comprehension and confidence.

“Maggie, my chemistry test result was A+!” One afternoon, Sarah said, her face glowing with accomplishment and satisfaction.

That’s fantastic, Sarah! I responded with a wave of pride in myself, saying, “I knew you could do it.” Observing their development was immensely satisfying, and news of my tutoring’s influence quickly circulated across the neighborhood.

Could you also tutor my son, Mrs. Maggie? One day, a concerned and sincere neighbor asked, “He’s having trouble in his science classes.”

The chance to increase my impact and assist additional youngsters touched my heart, so I said, “Of course, I’d be happy to help.”

My little house quickly became into a hive of activity, laughing and learning, full with young minds ready to succeed. I had restored my identity as a respected teacher who was improving the lives of others; I was no longer just the lonely grandma who had trouble at the grocery store.

John gave him a ring one evening to see how his daughters were doing. His voice was full of thanks as he replied, “Maggie, I can’t thank you enough for what you’re doing for Sarah and Emily.”

John, it’s a pleasure for me. I responded, thinking back on how much my life had changed since our accidental meeting at the grocery. “They’re wonderful girls, and I’m so glad I can help,” I said.

I gazed about my bustling home, which was suddenly full of pupils and the hum of learning, as I hung up the phone. I accepted that I had been given another chance at life and resolved to seize any moment I had to mentor and uplift others.

One day, full of pride and confidence, I made the decision to go back to the same store where it all started. I was curious to observe the cashier’s reaction when I bought another bun.

It was the same cashier I had seen earlier, as I walked up to the counter. I made sure to stay a little while longer, seeming to look in my handbag for cash once again. But the cashier’s demeanor was noticeably different this time.

“Ma’am, take your time. Is there anything more I can do to assist you? In sharp contrast to our last conversation, she asked in a courteous, calm tone.

“No, thank you,” I answered, giving her the cash for the bun while feeling both happy and thoughtful about the harsh truth that appearances frequently lead to judgment.

I thought about the important lesson I had learned as I left the store: the power of compassion and understanding to change not just individual lives but entire communities. I made the decision to keep imparting these ideals to my kids in the hopes of encouraging them to see past appearances and recognize the complexity of each person’s unique story.

I had find my passion and purpose through this journey, which was started by a small act of kindness and an unanticipated change in my life. I was dedicated to promoting compassion and empathy as a teacher once more, making sure that every student I came into contact with learnt to place more emphasis on a person’s inner qualities than on their external looks.

This metamorphosis involved more than just going back to work; it involved resurrecting a crucial aspect of myself that had been neglected. It served as a reminder that you can always make a difference in both your own and other people’s lives.

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