Courage in the Kitchen

"I can't." 

I heard the frustration in his voice, this child who threatened to crash under the weight of the last section of a worksheet. Then a small miracle occurred, right there in my kitchen. Without a word from me, even before I'd had a moment to compose an encouraging mini pep-talk on how he really, truly can figure out the answer to the question or a matter-of-fact lecture about how we must do some things we don't want to do, which I felt was the real heart of the issue... before any of this could happen, he continued in a voice completely free of emotional strain.

"I can, but I don't want to."

And then, wonder of wonders, he proceeded to complete his assignment.

I call it a small miracle because that's exactly what it was. In the midst of his distress, he found peace, courage, and resolution. I scrapped all thought of cheering or scolding, and told him simply that I admired his courage, that finishing a worksheet might not seem like a courageous thing to do, that little acts of courage like this prepare him for big acts of courage later.

Others have said it before, and much better than I have, but it bears restating. Little acts of courage aren't little. They're huge. They train us for those moments when things of far greater import than a worksheet threaten to overwhelm us. We must practice courage in the little things if we are to have any courage at all in the big things, and we must teach our children to do the same.

Speaking of teaching our children and things that require courage, it's about time we did our math lesson...