Once Again, My Children are my Teachers

Posted by Molly

My husband was out of town over the weekend so Saturday night I took Mac and Charlie to Mass by myself. It was cold and rainy and we stayed in the back because I could tell it was not going to be a night when my Charlie would be able to sit still. Usually if we don't have a seat the bad behavior of my children just escalates but this past Saturday their behavior was actually pretty good. Pretty good for my kids isn't pretty good for every kid but I accept who they are and am thankful for the small blessings. God gave me really wild boys and I am happy to answer his call to reign them in without taming their charming rascal personalities too much.

Father Charlie gave a wonderful homily about Respect for Life Sunday. I had always associated "respect for life" with abortion, but when I left the church on Saturday night I had a much broader, fuller idea of what respect for life is all about. I thought about it a lot that night and tried to come up with ways that I could teach my kids to always show respect for the lives that God has created - our own and those of all His creatures. And then I realized that I was fooling myself. For when it comes to respecting life, I am not the teacher but rather the student and my boys are the teachers.

My boys love life! And they do it in such different ways.

Mac had 20 friends before he was a year old. He learned to talk early and would just wander up to other children at the park, point at himself and yell "MAC!". On his first day of preschool at St. Raphaels, he comforted the child crying in the drop off line in front of him with a hug and a "don't cry, Buddy". He has started off every school year since (he's in kindergarten now) telling me about a child who doesn't talk and making it his mission to win over that shy child with relentless friendliness. Mac sees every life as a potential friend and he doesn't change his mind just because getting to know someone isn't easy.

Charlie on the other hand didn't make a friend until he was 3 and even then the two of them sort of skulk around each other like lone wolves. He's in nursery school now and he seems happy about it but when I ask him if he wants me to set up playdates for him on his days off he says no. Charlie is not social. But he is sensitive. He cries at ASPCA commercials. And when he thinks the music sounds sad in mass. Recently I made the mistake of taking him to see "The Lion King" and when the Lion King's dad didn't come back to life at the end of the movie like Charlie thought he was going to do, I had to carry him out of the theater sobbing. When we got home stood at the front window of our house waiting for his own dad to get home for 45 minutes and hugged him like they had been separated for years rather than just a few hours.

My kids insist that I give money to people who approach our car at stop lights. They suggest that if there is a homeless man in our neighborhood shouldn't we let him live in our spare room? They beg to buy filet-o-fishes for the stray cats that live behind the dumpsters at the McDonald's by our house. They get upset if they think the Mac and Charlie flowers in our front yard don't look healthy. My children respect life in a way I can only dream of emulating. In the Book of Matthew, Jesus tells us that in order to enter his Kingdom we must become like little children. Luckily for me, I have two very good examples to follow when I lose my way.