I don't remember what started it. Maybe it was staying up late last night. Maybe it was the excitement of the local festival. Maybe it was all the candy they'd downed at said festival.
Whatever it was, when my children climbed into the van, they did so with - How shall I say this? - less grace than I would have liked.
And I, stellar mother that I am, oversaw said loading into van with less grace than I would have liked. Sliding the door shut with more force than necessary, I moved to the front of the van and sat on the hood, thinking that maybe they'd figure out that we weren't going anywhere till they settled down and began behaving like little human beings who have been carefully instructed on proper manners and conduct.
Go ahead. Laugh with me.
As I settled into my hood-top perch, someone behind me and a few cars away said, "I know that feeling." The father chuckled and continued unloading his van, and I laughed, too.
We all know that feeling. Sometimes a reminder that we aren't alone is enough to dispel that feeling.
We were out of the parking lot in moments, and our stop to fill up the van went off without a hitch, but the best was yet to come.
As we tumbled out of our van and into the grocery store parking lot, an elderly lady stopped and looked at my children most wistfully. She remarked on how beautiful they are and asked if they are all mine. She then told me very sweetly that I "have a job," and that I'm doing it very well. (If only she'd seen me sitting on the hood a few minutes before!) Maybe I'm a great mom, maybe I'm not, but her words reminded me to be a great mom - or a greater mom - right then and there. Her words - words of love and encouragement - lifted my spirits as I headed into the grocery store with four energetic children.
We were almost to the entrance of the store when the most bizarre, wonderful, tear-inducing thing occurred.
My son, so often prone to keep to himself as much as possible, asked my permission to go help an elderly lady load her groceries into her car. Permission granted, he approached her and pleasantly offered his help. She declined, but my heart soared seeing his desire do something so simple, yet so beautiful for someone in his community.
We live and grow and thrive in community. None of this - not the encouragement I received nor the connection my son made - could have happened in isolation. I had to take my children out into our community. I had to be honest enough to sit on the hood of a van of screaming kids. I had to be humble enough to let an elderly lady see the inside of my van, in all its candy wrapper-dirty socks-towels left after swim practice-glory. And my son had to see a frail woman with a cart of groceries standing at the back of a beat up station wagon. There is amazing grace in living within a community.
We never know when our words or actions may set another's course in an entirely different and vastly superior direction. So be nice. And moms, dads... If you're wondering what happened to all those lessons you've taught your children from the cradle, they're in there, they'll come to the surface when you least expect it, and it will be nigh unto impossible not to cry when they do the beautifully right thing on their own.
These seemingly insignificant events have left me humbled. At the close of a half hour that began with less grace than I would have liked, I found far more grace than I ever would have imagined.
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