![]() I recently came across this short story I wrote more than 20 years ago. I smile at the recollection of this event. Life is good. I hope you enjoy. When my children woke this morning, they seemed intent on making life difficult for one another. Anne decided to make her bed and flying through the room from out of nowhere, Alexander landed smack dab in the middle of the proceedings. Hitting and yelling followed. “Mom!” was bellowed from a very small set of lungs - which reached my ears in the kitchen where I attempted to clean up breakfast from the table. James hollered to me from the bathroom, “Someone used my toothbrush and put the toothpaste in the drawer instead of in the medicine cabinet.” Lynne pulled at my nightgown, complaining that Anne had all of the “good socks” in her drawer and wouldn’t give her any! All four of my children, miraculously, ended up in the bathroom at once fighting over mirror, brushes, water, toothpaste and the commode. The child in need of privacy was soon reduced to tears. He yelled at his siblings to leave the bathroom, yet his pleas went unheeded. At this point I realized that all of my long distant reprimands of the morning landed on deaf ears. It was time to take a different tact. I ordered the majority of my lovelies to the kitchen table and I left the one in need of the facility a moment to himself. While waiting for him at the table, I sent up a prayer requesting aid for an effective way to help my children back onto the straight and narrow. My small son soon took his place among the guilty and I proceeded to issue sentencing. I hereby decree that “each of you say three nice things about every person sitting at this table!” From their crest-fallen faces, you’d have thought I’d grounded them interminably. The unfortunate first, my oldest, stammered, looked off into space and fidgeted in his chair. After some consideration, he turned to his sister and declared, “You have nice hair, teeth and fingernails.” I rolled my eyes heavenward and almost hated to say anything. Almost! I looked at my darling, who stared at his hands in his lap with a nervous look on his face. I could tell he was wondering how he was going to come up with six more nice things to say about the other two sitting across the table from him. To keep this exercise from becoming an all day activity, I said, “You have to say at least one meaningful thing about each person.” In great effort, he managed to accomplish this feat. With a bit of laughter and some frustration, my children made their way through the arduous task of speaking positively about their pestering siblings. After my sweet peas sufficiently paid their debts to their little society, I pardoned and gave them their freedom from the kitchen table. They spent the rest of the morning trying to show consideration toward one another - which lent to a blissfully peaceful and productive rest of the morning.
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AuthorAs a young adult, I believed there to be a point of arrival; a place where internal struggles with fear or anger or confusion give way to assurance and appropriate displays of passion and clarity of thought and direction. Where striving with relationships transform into understanding and acceptance and the propensity to self-protect shifts to trust and confident vulnerability. However, to my dismay, I was startled to learn, through a friend in her 80s, my perception was most definitely a misconception. Archives
November 2024
Categories - Personal Growth |