Written by Esperanza DeLaLuz
Your greatest contribution to the world may not be in what you do, but someone you raise.
-- Andy Stanley
Sometimes the things about being a mother that are the most meaningful to you are not the things you would expect. Cards, gifts, and messages of appreciation, are wonderful and meaningful, no question. But some of the things that have meant the most to me are the late-night calls where a child calls to tell you something….
They have lost their job; the market has gone soft; and they are at risk of losing their home. Your heart breaks because you aren’t in a position to offer much financial help, and then your child says, “But we’ll get through it, Mom. We bought a giant bag of beans, and another bag of rice. We had some food set aside. Thank you for teaching me how to live poor.” Who knew that all those years we struggled to get by would be a blessing to our child?
A child called to tell me of her struggles with a child with behavioral issues, as a result of special needs, who is doing so poorly that the school is wanting to do something to make life easier for themselves, a thing which is not in the best interest of her child. Again, my heart ached, because there was not a lot I could do for her, besides listen and be supportive. They live very far away and its such a complicated process to resolve this kind of thing. Then she says, “But I knew what to do, Mom; I took him to be assessed, and then I told them they need to get him an IEP, and I told them I know they have to do something better.” I said, “Wow, how did you know how to do those things?” She told me she had watched and listened as we worked with her foster brother, and so she remembered what to do.
A child who had been struggling to find a good way to live, decided to go into the military to help build a better life. The call in the late night told of the challenges of boot camp, the demanding discipline, the hard work and myriad mundane tasks. BUT, assigned to clean bathrooms with another recruit, who was clueless and lazy, our child shone, having been taught to do chores (however reluctantly those lessons were endured.) The child who, as a child, threw tantrums over having to do the dishes said to me, “Thank you, Mom, for teaching me to work.” I was thrilled (and floored!)
Who would have thought?
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