Monday, November 3, 2014

Lessons for my Children -- I Mean, Me!

I have been reading the Little House series aloud to the girls each afternoon, about a half-hour a day.  As we read the stories, I marvel at the sweetness of both Laura and Mary.  I am touched by how little they "neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed" or even want.

And I am tempted.  I am tempted to point out to my children, "See, girls!  You see how Laura and Mary were excited to receive a cup for their Christmas present?!  And how a peppermint stick and a little cake were a bonus, and more than enough?  And how that shiny penny apiece were 'almost too much'?  See girls, they didn't have much at all, but were thankful for every little thing."

But then I am reminded to look at Caroline.  "Ma" cooked over an open fire, either outdoors (let that sink in -- she did all her family's meals camping-style, even when they lived in a house!) or indoors (over her fireplace).  Glass windowpanes were a luxury not always to be had, and when Charles brought home fabric for her to make a new dress for herself, she didn't tell him she'd rather have picked the fabric herself.  No!  She told him it was all too much.  Her heart was that of a homemaker, a loving wife and mother.  She had so little, and asked for not much more than that.  And she was thankful for it all.  She found reason to be thankful when her chimney caught fire and almost burned her home and family down.  She found reason to be thankful when her home was burglarized as she and her children were standing there, looking on, unable to stop the thieves. 

And I am convicted.  I have so much -- too much, if I am honest.  All of my needs, and the vast majority of my wants, and yet I want "more."  Instead of thankfulness, my heart is greedy.  I know that more, bigger, newer, faster, better won't make me happy, but I sure want to find out for myself.  Just to make sure.

The little apples don't fall far from the tree, I'm afraid.  If I am ungrateful, I cannot expect to find gratefulness in my children.  If I am constantly seeking fulfillment in "stuff," I cannot be exasperated when I notice my children doing the same.  I cannot lecture them into a better way.  If I do that, all I am teaching them is hypocrisy.  I am teaching them that as long as the words are correct, the works don't matter.  And that is a lesson far too easily taught and learned in this world.

So, I keep these thoughts to myself.  I am learning.  And one day, maybe I'll understand this whole parenting thing.  Possibly in time for the grandbabies to start coming.

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