Imagine it was your child; the one you held so tenderly in your arms while beaming with pride.

Put yourself in his father’s shoes.

Imagine it’s your adult child living at home with you; not because he’s lazy and won’t get a job, but because he isn’t equipped with a mind that allows him to survive alone in the world.

So he lives home with you, where he’s safe, where the cold world can’t hurt him.

You’re tired after a long day, but talking to your son makes you happy.

It’s a nice change of pace compared to the sad, jaded people you come in contact with every day.

You get choked up thinking about how he’s remained innocent as the world has grown harsh around him. But it’s ok because he’s protected by you.

In your mind, he’s the same child you held in your arms all those years ago.

Now imagine you’re playing on your phone. You go to Facebook and scroll around mindlessly.

Same old stuff – political battles, funny jokes, silly blogs where idiots opine to no one … then go to your son’s page.

At first you think he’s made new friends. Your heart beams with joy. But the happiness is short-lived because you realize they’re not his friends.

They’re just kids who found him and use him for target practice.

Then you realize they’re not kids, they’re grown men – some with children of their own.

It’s obvious that they’re trying to impress each other by making fun of your son.

Your sweet, innocent boy who would never hurt anyone is now the butt of their jokes.

Luckily he doesn’t realize it. He just thinks they’re his friends, but this somehow hurts more.

Not only do you know these kids – excuse me, I meant to write – these middle-aged men – are not his friends, but everyone else can see it too because the settings on their comments are public. You assume this is on purpose so they can show the world how hysterical they are.

Cheap jokes at your son’s expense.

You’ve seen it before when he was in school, so you’re not completely surprised. But it does make you wonder what could possibly be hurting these men so much that they could be so cruel to another human being.

You decide to pray for them. Because only a person with the saddest, most pathetic existence could act this way to another person, to your son – a soul who has never hurt anyone.

You pray for them and then you brace yourself for that vaguely familiar conversation that you haven’t had to have in years – the one where you let him know that these people are not his friends, and it’s probably best for him to ignore them.

Then you go to bed broken hearted and wonder if it will ever stop.

Imagine it was your child.