What if the Monsters are “Real”

Monsters lurked under the bed and crouched in the closet when our boys were young.

I heard the boys stirring through the door we left ajar. Peeking in, I asked, “What’s wrong?”


“There’s a monster under the bed,” one whispered. But who could tell in the dim light that shown from the hall?

I told them, “There’s no monster.”

For good measure I added, “Monsters aren’t real.” But, they didn’t believe me. When you’re young, monsters are real. It doesn’t matter what grown ups say.


One night I believed the monsters were real.

“Shhhh!! Where are they?” I whispered with the concern only monsters inspire. By this time I was crouching, arms extended, like a ninja warrior.

“Under the bed,” Mark the younger, whispered from the lower bunk. (Matt had claimed the upper bunk due to higher status.) I dove under the bed grabbing the monster by the throat. He nearly bit me, but he didn’t.

Arms flailing and legs kicking, I wrestled the beast. I almost went under. Eventually, the beast weakened enough for me to drag him out and run to the bathroom – where I flushed the monster down.

Breathless, but emboldened, I returned to whisper, “Any more monsters in here?” Matt whispered, there’s one in the closet. Surprisingly, I defeated that one as well.

It’s comforting when someone believes the monsters are real.

The people around you see monsters; you’re harsh, someone else got the promotion, they’re under-appreciated and over-worked.

It doesn’t matter if you believe harshness is a monster under the bed or not.

You might try, “Oh, please forgive me. I didn’t intend to be harsh. What can I do to show my gentle side?”

Something surprising happens when monsters are taken seriously.

When is it wise to accept someone’s monster?

When is it better to tell them their monster isn’t real?