Sometimes it seems like millions of moments ago since I was a young mom and wife raising three little girls. It actually has been a while, but some of the lessons I tried to impart are still a large part of who my daughters are. I can’t say my daughters are perfect, because they were raised by two imperfect parents. But I can say they are women who know what it means to speak kindly, respect others, compromise when necessary, share their blessings, live their faith, think critically, and serve those around them. I’m proud of them. These lessons weren’t learned in a day, or even a week, but they were learned day after day, week after week, year after year until they became a part of what defined our girls.
Now that I’m a grandmother my daughters are continuing the tradition. It is my granddaughters who must now learn these important lessons. I know our family isn’t the only one training up their children and their children’s children to live with integrity and compassion in their homes and communities and the world at large. I am, however, puzzled by how these very basic lessons somehow have failed to commute to the politicians, media, and others who share their opinions and lives so openly in various forums.
Perhaps fewer people than I realize are taught that name calling and belittling is at best unacceptable (at least it was in our home) and unbecoming at the very least. I am amazed at the insults hurled between political parties, individuals, liberals and conservatives, media personalities and the list goes on. I can’t see that it serves any purpose and, as we teach our little ones, words should be thought about and used carefully. I’ve had to eat some of mine over the years and have found words spoken in haste or anger aren’t a very tasty dish.
Our family increased rapidly once we decided to bring on the babies. In less than four years Bob and I went from the two of us to a family of five. It was fun, crazy at times, loud, and loving, and very quickly our little ones learned what it meant to compromise. Five people can’t each have their own way all of the time, neither can each member of a community or state or country, it creates chaos. So we tried to teach them to talk (not whine, I never could stand whining, still can’t), reason, work at agreement, and come up with a compromise that was as good as it could be for everyone. Sometimes it worked better than other times; sometimes everyone seemed satisfied, sometimes one or more left the bargaining table less than happy. In the process they learned that life went on and next time chances were things would swing their way. Give and take, it worked for us. Somehow everyone on Capitol Hill has forgotten compromise and how it works, and that worries me for my children and grandchildren.
Toys, games, craft supplies, and playmates were never in short supply in our house. As a matter of fact they were quite abundant, and those things that Bob and I provided for entertainment and learning and fun were meant to be shared. I must say, when two little girls both wanted the pink crayon things could get nasty, so sometimes NO ONE got the pink crayon. But the real breakthrough came when my girls learned that sharing the rainbow of colors in the box blessed them and those around them; the finished picture was so much nicer when they pooled their energy, talent, and resources. I’d like my granddaughters to live in a world where the movers and shakers have learned that lesson as well.
Since my grandchildren seem to have learned lessons on sharing and compromise better than some in the adult world, I’m praying their moms and dads will also see the importance of teaching them to be critical thinkers. I want them to be fact seekers, to make good deductions, to uncover the truth, and ultimately to make healthy, good decisions. I hope that their critical thinking skill set will include the ability to give the benefit of the doubt to those whose opinions differ from theirs, to seek advice from those more experienced, and to use the filters of their faith, compassion, and love when they weigh and balance the knowledge they amass.
I interact with lots of people, people with all kinds of walks, experiences, and leanings, and somehow it works. I’m friends with folks on the left and the right, folks with a lot and folks with a little, folks here and folks there. I don’t agree with all of them, sometimes I don’t even like what they have to say; but I still work to keep the dialogue open, I still seek the common ground we can find, and I still love them, because if I can’t do it on a grassroots level how will it ever be achieved on higher levels. I want to do it in order to share my world, my faith, and my hope for the future. I know I have to listen if I want to be heard. Most of all, I need to do it so my grandchildren can know it is possible, because right now, it’s a lesson I fear many people have forgotten.
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