One fine day, my brother convinced me that I could fly through the air like Superman. Either he wanted to test my limits, literally, or he was in it for a good laugh! He put an army blanket around my shoulders, pinned the two ends together with an extra large kilt pin, and helped me climb a ladder leading to the roof of my grandmother's chicken coop. I was all in, I mean, I was 100% certain that I was going to fly through the air! My brother watched eagerly and with great anticipation as I adjusted my cape, raised my arms above my head, and leaped into the air!
I remember the immediate shock and disappointment that came when I realized I was going down, not up! I hit the cold, hard ground with a thud that knocked the wind out of me, along with a few bodily fluids! Although I didn't soar through the sky, the impact was so intense that the sun, the stars and the moon were all spinning around in my head. It hurt! It hurt so bad that I couldn't stop screaming, but the real pain came from the sharp reality that I couldn't fly or even hover for a split second!
My mother came running out the front door in response to my blood curdling screams and my brother flew like a bat out of hell when he saw the look on her face! He quickly disappeared into the neighborhood to escape the wrath he knew he had coming.
My mother tended to my wounds, as I tearfully explained the events leading up to my failed attempt to hurl myself into space. She listened patiently while I dramatically professed my super duper version of the story and of course, declare my brother's responsibility for everything that had happened. Then, I humbly requested, "Aren't you gonna find him and punish him?" What I really wanted her to do was lock him up until he was an old man with a white beard and creepy long fingernails, but out of her great wisdom and patience she sweetly declared, "He'll be home soon, it's almost dinner time and he'll get hungry."
This was my first recollection of the power of "cause and effect." Through her infinite wisdom, my mother kindly inquired, "What part did you play in this unfortunate incident?" I wanted desperately to remain the innocent victim and to bury myself in self pity and denial. 'It couldn't possibly be my fault,' I thought to myself, all my intentions were good! My first reaction was to blame my brother for everything; after all, someone had to pay the price for my injuries. My mother, however, had loftier goals for us that day. Her unconditional love and wisdom shaped our lives and we realized many valuable lessons through this one experience; certainly not from falling off the chicken coop onto the hard ground, but through the soft manor in which she responded to our trials. She elevated us to a higher level of understanding by her actions and through the examples she set.
Later that day, my brother slithered through the back door like a little green snake in the grass. My mother didn't scold, shame, or belittle him. She responded in a genuine desire to teach the greater lessons of patience and love, by allowing each of us to take responsibility for our actions. She healed our wounds from the inside out and taught us to be responsible and accountable for ourselves, as well as, for each other.
Instead of turning this experience into a courtroom drama, she used it for an opportunity for growth. She explained to my brother, since I was injured from the fall and he had made the choice to flee the scene of the accident, he would be doing my chores until I recovered from a slight concussion. She was smooth as butter with her comments, that rolled off her tongue like sweet honey pouring from a hot glass jar. Without one word of anger or disdain, she had taught the valuable lessons of cause and effect, along with accountability.
The memory that stands out the most for me was not an extreme fall onto the cold hard ground, but the soft touch of a mother's love for her children. A love that was kind and respectful, and delivered with great consideration of the age and maturity of her young children. She made it possible for my brother and I to accepted responsibility, apologize to one another, and again become comrades in a plot to conquer the world.
Parents have wonderful opportunities to teach their children, but unfortunately these opportunities often come as trials in day to day living. It's important for parents to shift from “punishment” to the “opportunity of teaching" principles that hold children accountable. When addressing issues through patience and love, it releases the child from feeling that they are bad or unloved. (Punishment and blame take the circumstances from bad to worse.) Teaching good principles inspires children to learn greater virtues and provides them with the opportunities to choose better options. It also allows them to build self esteem and self reliance.
Parents who resort to anger, shame, ridicule, blame, punishment, name calling, or violence, teach their children that these damaging actions are acceptable for solving problems. Bullies begat bullies. Severe punishment and ridicule will break the spirit of a child, inevitably producing fear, hate, and anger. Negative actions are the cause and effect of negative people, and its important to remember that children inevitably emulate the actions of their parents.
Superman is still one of my favorite heros. There are days when I leap tall buildings in a single bound, fight off the evil nemesis, and still have dinner ready and on the table by dusk! Superman had the advantages of flying through the air, but a mother’s influence rules the world in raising a nation.
I discovered through the loving arms of wonderful parents that I didn't need a cape to fly. I believe that heros aren't formed in the womb, they are nurtured and loved by parents who change the world and the generations to come. For parents have the power to make all the difference in the world. Let me rephrase that, "Parents have all the power to make the world different!" Written by Linda Sumner Urza for: onefineday11.blogspot.com
