Kids are inherently selfish. It doesn’t make them bad. It just makes them kids. When you’re small, your world is small. And what you have is yours – your toy, your bike, your candy. Often sharing is mandated. Children will be admonished to “share with your brother” or “share with your sister”. Usually the little miscreant will oblige but not always cheerfully. As parents, we try to remind our youngsters that sharing is ‘the right thing to do’.
But in a world full of selfish and self-centered adults, teaching kids to share seems a daunting task. ‘ME FIRST’ is the mantra of so many in our society that giving or sharing seems to be an antiquated idea. After all, how can I get ahead if I’m busy taking care of someone else? Why should I sacrifice any of my time, talent, or treasure to someone who hasn’t worked as hard as I have to achieve it?
In the United States the idea of the self-made man is iconic. Pulling one up by his (or her) own bootstraps is almost heroic. It is the quintessential American figure. But is any of us really able to do everything alone? Has no one else ever helped even the most successful (depending on what your definition of success might be) among us? I doubt it.
We all need one another. We all need to be helped from time to time. And we need to help others in return. Sharing is giving. Giving is helping. So young parents, please keep reminding your kiddos. Make him share. Teach her to give. Model that same behavior.
I am encouraged because after school one day recently, my (almost) seven year-old grandson gave my wife a piece of Banana Laffy Taffy®.
Let me explain: In first grade if you’ve had a good week at school the teacher allows you to pick something from the candy jar. Noah loves candy but he also knows that his Nana loves Banana Laffy Taffy®.
So when it came time to choose, he chose unselfishly. He chose something for someone else. He ran excitedly up to her to present his treasure. He earned it. He deserved it. But he gave it up with love. And with tears brimming in her eyes she accepted his kindness.
I hope and pray that his small gesture is just the beginning of lifetime of sharing and giving to others. What an example he has given us. I remain humbled.
Peace,
Denis
Jesus said, “Let the children come to me; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Matthew 19:14
I am a patriot. But sadly I’m afraid that patriotism has come to represent a pretty narrow political view by some. I don’t believe that God should bless America anymore than God should and does bless all nations. And yet I remain a patriot. To me this is the beauty of being an American. We are a pluralistic nation. We are richly diverse. We can disagree with one another. We can openly oppose the political views of elected officials and vote them out of office. We can peacefully assemble. We can protest. We have the right to freedom of speech and freedom of information.
When I was a boy times were simpler (or maybe our parents were naïve). But it seemed that we had lots of freedom and at least we felt safe. Certainly parents then didn’t have the fears that parents do today. We swam in creeks. We road our bikes EVERYWHERE. We drank from the garden hose and peed in the backyard. We played in open fields. We collected soda bottles and returned them to the A&P for the 2¢ deposit. My friends and I would save enough of the deposit money to buy a watermelon (the kind with seeds – the seedless ones hadn’t been invented yet) and we would cut it open on a summer day and gorge ourselves and spit the seeds on the ground. Perhaps that’s why summer makes me so happy. I can relive some of my youth with my grandkids. We can play ball in the backyard and eat watermelon and splash around in a wading pool.
A week or so ago the first egg hatched, followed by two more the following day. The fourth egg never hatched. I guess, such is nature. At first the three baby birds were just all eyes and beaks and fluff. Always with their necks outstretched, waiting for momma bird to deliver some sustenance. Momma bird would fly from rooftop to tree to ground and back and then do it all over again and again. She would pull worms from the ground and return to the nest only to fly away again in constant pursuit of food for her young.
Yesterday as I was looking into the nest, two of the babies jumped out! Then on to a branch and then onto the ground. Momma cardinal became hysterical. The squawking and flapping and flying around was startling to say the least. It was as if she was sounding an alarm. And indeed she had. Soon daddy cardinal was on the scene. Both appeared to be searching for their timid youngsters who had taken shelter in the rose and holly bushes in our front garden. They were like tiny sentries on guard. Desperately struggling to protect their young from what might lie ahead. This morning the nest was empty save for the un-hatched egg. The fledglings have officially “flown the coop”.
Now we have five grandchildren aged 12 to 1. Our beautiful baby Gwen turns one year old today. She’ll have her own “fledgling moments” soon enough as will her sisters and her cousins. I just hope I’m around to squawk and flap my wings as needed when the time comes.
But manners without kindness seem artificial and insincere. Think: Eddie Haskell or Nellie Olson. Hideous creatures who spoke sweetly but never lovingly. Saying “may I please” and “thank you” are hollow gestures if there is no true appreciation or respect being offered.
My favorite coffee cup was recently broken by the cleaning crew in my office. The appropriate apology and offer of replacement was extended but somehow it doesn’t seem enough. They’ll never be able to replace a 20 year-old Denny’s® cup that my sister gave me. I’m afraid my coffee will never quite taste the same. That cup gave me comfort and a sense of connection.
Growing up with a mother who is half French meant that we were treated to dessert with every meal – cakes, pies, cream puffs, cookies, brownies, puddings, whether it was deserved or not. What lucky kids we were! Sweet, rich, delicious, fattening desserts were just part of our life. Eating dinner (or lunch) was really just an exercise in getting to the reward of dessert. It wasn’t until I was nearly grown before I realized that our family was unique. Sadly not everyone had homemade desserts with each and every meal. Ever sadder, some folks didn’t even have store-bought dessert! Why not??? I still can’t understand nor explain that anomaly.
Nine years ago the most wonderful thing happened. My granddaughter Anna entered this world and captured my heart. Nothing has ever been the same since.
I’d like to make sense of this world. I’d like to make sense of this life. I’d like to impart some wisdom to those around me that might actually improve this world and their lives.
