Don't Break The Valuables

My wedding collection of wedding china (which was supposed to be tough enough for everyday use) has been slowly but surely dwindling over the course of my marriage. So pretty. So fragile. So I cherish the few items I have left and try to use them sparingly. As of yesterday, I had one bowl left (one bowl! Yes, Mom, I know...), and I used it when dishing out oatmeal. One of my boys had it, and when he brought it back to the kitchen to return it, he tripped a little over something, and the bowl slipped out of his hands and crashed onto the tile floor.

My heart hurt a little bit as I looked at the pieces. "My last bowl!" I started to gasp, but then the child who dropped it burst into tears of remorse as he started to berate himself for being clumsy. Suddenly it became far more important to keep his spirit together than to lament over the bowl, and I took a deep breath, stepped over those pieces, and hugged him.

Now, I am not at all exalting myself here. It was not easy to swallow those words of correction that wanted to spring to my lips. It wasn't easy to say, "It's just a bowl." And it was even harder to swallow those conditional phrases that we parents are so often guilty of using, "It's ok - just be "more careful next time," or "WHY were you walking around the house with food?" I think kids are smart enough to know what they could have/should have done instead. But I write this only as encouragement (and from experience, because I've certainly made missteps in this area before) - kids spill things, break things, knock things over, and in all kinds of ways run roughshod over furniture and household items. Teaching them manners and respectful use of property is important, of course, but I'm talking about accidents, things that happen just in the course of their being growing kids (and people, since adults still spill and break things, too). Those are just things. I know they cost money to replace, and some memories can't be replaced, like the ones represented by that bowl, but those young hearts and spirits are ever, ever so much more valuable. How awful it is to wound and crush them with unnecessary words of criticism and correction. I've been guilty of saying those kinds of things before, and have regretted them sorely.

So I tried to be intentional in giving complete and unconditional forgiveness in this instance, in preserving my son's spirit. He didn't say, "Wow, Mom, I'll remember this instance of your kindness on your part forever. You've made me a better person. Thank you." And I don't mean to overdramatize an incident that will pass from his memory almost as quickly as it took to sweep up the pieces of that bowl. But even if he doesn't remember it, it's one of those moments I'll treasure for a good long while - a moment in which I'll know I chose one of the results of my wedding that was most valuable, far more so than the nice gifts we received.

They were nice gifts, though. I shed another tear in memory of that lovely bowl!