Vulnerability arises.
One of our sons just recently had to come up with his own money to pay for a new pair of eyeglasses. This sounds cruel for a parent, but allow me to rewind.
Our child had already gone through two times of breaking not one pair of eyeglasses, but two. Our insurance covered both repairs with minimal cost. This last time, however, had been more than several times where he had misplaced his last pair of glasses. He has done the sole search, the help of his brother search, and the help of Mom and Dad search. Several hours have accumulated within several days of trying, together, to locate his glasses, half-an-hour to an hour at a time, leading to over a month with the glasses still unfound.
Forewarned with the consequence of not finding his latest pair of glasses, recently we went in to purchase two, now one for back-up with the first, once again, insured for any inevitable damages. Having anticipated this outcome, our son only showed brief dismay before quickly coming out of his room with money from his savings, paying us half of the cost and the other half once his glasses arrive to be paid in full.
We want to protect our children from any hurt, but as many forewarns given, sadly, it is only when they feel the hurt or emptiness that they arrive at a lesson learned. My very first lesson as a parent on such is still fresh to my heart’s recollection to this day.
Our oldest was right around sixth grade when he decided to save up to purchase a memory card for, if I recall this part correctly, his gaming device. He finally arrived to the day where he had enough. To see him trying his best to humbly contain his excitement warmed my heart.
Before heading over to purchase his memory card, we just had to stop over and pick-up a few items at a hardware store. Holding in his excitement and anticipation, I noticed he kept taking out his nylon Velcro wallet to check on his money from his coat pocket. I would watch him from a close distance take out the wallet, open it to check if his cash was still there, before placing his wallet back into his coat pocket again.
I grew up learning you never count your money out in the open. Since then, however, suburban life led me to forget to pass on this “street’s smart 101” rule. It wasn’t until I noticed a man watch with eagerness as my son once again took out his wallet from his coat pocket to check on his money where I was reminded. The uneasiness I felt seeing that man gaze upon my son from a distance all of a sudden, woke me up from “Pleasantville”. I quietly approached my son to remind him to put his wallet away and not take it out again until we leave. As I moved closer to my husband toward the checkout stand, I knew it was only a matter of time before our son would have that memory card. I, too, was excited for him. We never made it to that next stop.
As we were walking out of the hardware store, our son began to frantically pat his coat, feeling every part of his pocket area for his wallet. He couldn’t feel the wallet because it was no longer inside his coat. Thinking he must have dropped it, he quickly turned back and I immediately followed behind him. There, in one of those aisles he had been in was that Velcro wallet- on the cement ground, left spread out, facing down. As my son picked it up to look inside, I already sensed what he would find… nothing. It had been emptied, all his savings gone.
That look on my son’s face. Those telling eyes that told me he quickly learned the ugliness of heartless cruelty and greed. All that he saved to purchase his memory card… taken from him. Someone had the the audacity to leave the nylon Velcro wallet behind, only to tease our son to think there had still been hope.
For the first time as a mother, I confess… silent fury overcame me. My memory quickly recalled the light auburn-colored hair man with a medium built who had caught my attention as he watched my son take out his wallet just before we left. I recall carefully looking around for that man, wanting to HURT everyone in that department store who even looked the slightest of guilt. How dare anyone prey on an innocent child? My child.
In my heart I knew, however, whoever was in possession of our son’s savings was gone. I had a child before me to set an example to. I must have found every inch inside of me to relocate my center and keep myself outwardly calm and collect. His money was gone. There was no way of getting it back. We would walk out of that department store and go home. There would be no memory card to purchase that day.
Sure. My husband and I could have easily purchased the memory card for him. Our son’s fallen countenance could have been easily changed back to that once again happy face he had all morning. However, my husband and I, without even a discussion, knew this was a learning moment. Our son had to take in what happened. He had to fully experience this as if we were not there to save him to gain any and all reflective wisdom from the incident.
Whatever pain our son felt, as like many other accounts of all my children’s pains, I silently suffered ten times as much. My feelings would be of no help. He needed strength, not weakness.
Our oldest did get that memory card and soon enough, he was able to enjoy its add-on benefits for his entertainment. This did not occur, however, until he completed some yard work around the house. I still recall watching him mow the lawn outside from a window, feeling a sting in my heart knowing why. My silence had to remain silent and as I watched, I reminded myself the necessary endurance for the lesson needed to be learned.
Let such pain be felt to train the heart, mind, body, and spirit. No pain. No gain.
I recall reading an article long ago where a teacher from a country, after tearing off a piece he had written on, had folded up his paper so he could save it to write on the next day. Yet another, when a teacher had received a Power Bar from a visitor, she decides to cut it into pieces so all her students could experience the taste of chocolate.
Such stories I have shared with my own children and students. Still, I wonder, when shared, was there any compelling understanding as to why such taken-for-granted blessings be reckoned with careful choices to be made?
A Power Bar as we know is a protein bar far from a Hershey’s chocolate we (as in I, taking it for the team) indulge in. A protein bar as a representation of “chocolate” when you have only such to come as close to the (melting in your mouth) flavor is what I would understandably savor if I recall even back in my native country to not have anything more to compare.
A sheet of paper is nothing to a ream looking upon you in our workroom as teachers toss one away simply due to a slight crease without a second thought. Countless copies seen in recycle bins due to errors or extras not even pondered upon. After all, those who have been full cannot understand empty. And yet, there is that one who smiles upon receiving a Power Bar, hardly a milk chocolate Hershey surely to start melting between your fingers before feeling the melting sweet sensation in your mouth as it dissolves to your every satisfaction. For a teacher who knows the disparity of such sweet opportunities, the only loving thought is to wait until every one of your students can experience the moment with you. A taste perhaps savored in memory by some, if not all, her students.
For another teacher to use a part of a sheet of paper, tear off the part still unwritten to save for another time- what can one say who thinks not the same because they know tomorrow provides abundance, not lack?
Some have felt the comfort and ease of abundance. Some have sparingly, if ever, gotten to feel or taste such grant.
Who will be the wiser to never lose or use wisely what has been given?
