One day
last fall, my younger daughter – who had rather recently discovered a love for
cooking and baking – announced that she wanted to “do something” to help some
“less fortunate” folks in our community. She’d thought through her idea
thoroughly enough at that point to know she wanted to bake and share the fruit
of her labors. I helped by listing the names of area shelters, and she quickly
honed in on one – the “house” designated for men struggling with homelessness
and addiction. That ministry had helped a friend’s dad to break free of
alcoholism and, as she said, “All the shelters can use help, but I think most
people probably focus on the ones for women and children. I bet these men are
forgotten a lot.”
My
initial “mom instinct” was to make a call to the shelter for her; after all, we
knew almost nothing about the place and it housed “troubled” men who might – in
theory – be “dangerous.” But I stopped myself and instead encouraged her to call,
realizing that if she were to own the project, she should take the lead. A
phone call was very safe, and I’d obviously go with her if she followed
through. But to start with, she needed to know I had full confidence in her to
proceed.
At her
request, I coached her through what she might say, but the rest was up to her.
And follow through she did! She spoke with the shelter director, estimated what
she’d need to make 36 quick breads (one for each man and an extra for the
director himself), insisted on paying for everything with her own money, went
with me to make the purchases (because she’s not old enough to drive herself
yet), and then spent the bulk of her waking hours for two days mixing, baking, labeling,
wrapping up, and praying over each individual bread. Finally, she called the
director back to arrange a delivery time and happily toted her boxes of breads
up to the shelter’s second-floor dining hall.
As my
child, I obviously think she’s something special. But in a greater sense, she
isn’t. She’s “just” a kid who – by God’s grace – has developed empathy and a
strong desire to serve others. Every child and teen can be the same – and so
many already are.
Our job
as parents is to nurture the unique ways in which God has wired each of our
children so they might begin to notice how their talents and abilities can make
a difference in the wider world. And when they start to gain a vision for what
they can do – even if it’s something as small as baking bread for
down-and-outers who “don’t deserve it” – we must encourage and enable them. When
a child realizes she can make a difference, she’ll want to “be good” in order
to accomplish her goals.
“Don’t
look for big things, just do small things with great love…
the
smaller the thing, the greater must be our love.”
~ Mother
Teresa
No comments:
Post a Comment