Seedlings

Guest Blog - Kite Flying

This Guest Blog comes from my friend, Dr. Ted Klontz, co-founder of Your Mental Wealth and Klontz Consulting Group.  You can learn more about Ted and his work on his website http://www.yourmentalwealth.com/. I think you will enjoy Ted's story of playing with his young granddaughter and his reminder about the importance of showing up and being as willing and present as possible.  That works everytime with grandkids.  And, it's a wonderful formula for interacting with adults, in and beyond our family circle.  I can't wait to "Kite Play" with my grandkids come springtime.  In the meantime I'm going to look for other opportunities to stretch my playful muscles when I'm around them.

  Wow, the Windy City was living up to its reputation. 20-25 mile per hour gusty winds showed up as ordered for “Community Kite Day”, sponsored by the local Department of Parks and Recreation. However, the warmth that was imagined for this didn’t make an appearance. 33 + degrees, snow spitting periodically, the sun playing peek-a-boo with us, along with the aforementioned stout winds made for a perfect day to be a kite. Not so much the kite flier.

Not to be deterred by the weather, six-year old granddaughter Morgan was game and so was I. Bundled up more like we were going cross country skiing than kite flying we walked the two blocks to the park where we joined four other brave adults (out of a city of 14,000) and their little munchkins to do the deed.

But I had a secret. I didn’t know how a grandfather was supposed to play “kites” with his granddaughter. My most typical role as grandfather is fixing things around mom and dad’s house like broken toys, and cooking. I had been enrolled once as a prince marrying the princess, but didn’t have to know much, because I was told very directly what to do and not do. I also was good for a book reading now and then at their request.

Though I had two grandfathers growing up, playing kites (or anything else) with them, never happened, and I only remember playing with my father one day. There never seemed to be all that much time for playing. So, finding no instruction book on the subject, I thought I would just wing it.

We quickly put the pre-fab kite together. Footnote: when we were kids, we used to try to make our own kites with newspapers, string, glue, sticks, and ripped up rags for tails. Not with any great degree of success, by the way. Trust me. Prefab kites? BETTER.

Morgan was actually jumping up and down with excitement as we readied the kite. With her holding the string, we let out about 10 feet; I tossed the kite into the air, and she took off running. The kite immediately popped up in the sky. The look on her face was an “I can’t believe this!” What she did say was “Look Pappy, look!”. The wind was incredibly cooperative. She ran around the park for a full 10 minutes, jerking it around as if it was a fun-loving, unruly, untrained puppy.

When she tired of that, I showed her how to let the string all the way out so the kite could go higher. As she did that the kite went straight up as if it was a thoroughbred released from the starting gate. She soon discovered that if she just loosely held the stick the string was wound around, the wind took over and within 20 seconds the kite shot up over 300 feet in the air. Pretty much straight up. I was amazed myself. I have never seen such a perfect wind for kite flying. Morgan couldn’t contain her excitement. Her grin was wider than her face. Her shrieks of “Look, Pappy!”, “Watch!” echoed through the park, causing some of the other adults to look at us, perhaps wondering what in the world I was doing to this child. I was focused on Morgan’s face and saw a look of total mastery. A rare moment for any of us, especially I’m guessing, for a six-year old who lives in a made-for-big people world.

Once the kite had reached its terminal altitude, things calmed down and she handed me the kite. I showed her a couple of tricks she hadn’t thought of yet and we shared what little “generational knowledge” I had about kite flying. She discovered that the kite would dance and swirl, or pitch up and down, as a result of what she did with her arms as she ran around in giant circles. It seemed as if she was experiencing pure unadulterated delight, totally present in the moment. Nothing else seemed to exist for her. Such innocence. Such simple joy.

All this had taken about 20 minutes and I was secretly thinking, “Ok, it’s cold; we’ve done the kite thing, now she’ll probably want to go, and I will pretend to not celebrate the decision.” But she had another idea. “Pappy go stand under the kite so I can see how far away it is from us.” A football field away, I waved to her. She was impressed by the distance. She screamed “I CAN HARDLY SEE YOU!”,or at least that is what I thought she was saying, not being able to trust my decades-old ears as well as I used to. I do know she screamed in delight, right after she said it.

When I got back to her, in my indirect way, I said “What would you like to do now?” She took a few winds of the string around the stick to begin the process of bringing the kite back to us, then handed me the stick and said, “Wind this up for me”. With that order, she went a few steps ahead of me and grabbed the string and followed it the entire 100 yards as I rapidly wound the string up. Essentially she was “flying” the kite in a different way, while I wrapped string. Thinking (praying is more like it; I was C-O-L-D) this was it, I said, “When I get this string all wrapped, let’s go to Amelia’s (a neighborhood diner) and get some hot chocolate.” She was excited about that possibility. I sure was.

It took about 10 minutes for me to wind the string up. As I got finished she asked to hold it, and proceeded to let the wind unwind the entire 300 feet of string, again………

She looked at me with a big grin and said, “Pappy, wind it up again,” as she took off with her hand around the string following it all the way to the kite, eventually bringing it to the ground yet again. We played that ritual out six more times. Carpal tunnel was a growing risk factor.

I could tell that it was an incredibly pleasing thing for her to know that she was making the kite go up and that she could make it come down. She was enthralled. Mesmerized. Such power. So much control over what happened next. So much mastery.

I have a suspicion that we would still be there, if her father hadn‘t come to check on us and let us know that the agenda needed to move forward. We wound the kite up for the last time, took it apart and put it away. Dad gave us a ride to the diner. We ordered and each had the biggest hot chocolate I’d ever seen. I asked her how she liked it; she looked at me and gave me a silent “thumbs up.”

She later reported to her mom about how much fun we had playing.

As I reflected on my fear of not knowing how to “play kites,” I realized that perhaps not knowing how to do it, opened me up to just allow it to happen. No plans, no preconceptions, no directions to her about how it was “supposed” to be done. She invented and developed the experience. It was fully hers, I simply assisted.

I was reminded once again that my showing up, being willing and as fully present as I can be, might just be the best playing skill (make that living skill), I can have. Perhaps I don’t need to know anything else.

 

Growth Boards Are Parenting "Totem Poles"

 

“The potential possibilities of our child are the most intriguing we will ever witness in all of creation.  The awakening of those potentialities is our most important responsibility as a parent”—John “John A” Warnick

 

As a child I was fascinated by totem poles.  Some were scary; others inviting.  But each was colorful and unique.

Our children and grandchildren are as unique as a totem pole.  As the poet Wordsworth wrote in his Ode “Intimations of Immortality” each child comes “trailing clouds of glory”.  Each child/adult’s “exterior semblance doth belie” the “soul’s immensity.”  Within the immensity of the human soul lie wondrous gifts and talents, waiting to be uncovered and developed with a lifetime of patience and persistence.

Our biggest opportunity as parents and grandparents is to believe in the divine worth of our children and grandchildren.  And the awakening of the potentialities within our child is our biggest responsibility.  We start by helping our child/grandchild understand “God doesn’t make junk”.  We also need to nurture their confidence and resilience.  The Growth Board can be a key tool to assist us in these tasks.  But before I share the exciting possibilities of a Growth Board, let’s explore the meaning of the totem pole.

The art forms, faces, figures and stories represented on totem poles were part of the tribal legacy.  Often the accomplishments of an individual and the rights acquired during his lifetime were chronicled on the totem pole.

You may have fond memories of your mother or father placing a pencil mark on the wall in your kitchen or bedroom.  On each birthday I had to stop wiggling long enough for my mom to be able to draw a line, note the height and date.  And, then my parents would point with pride to the fact I had grown a couple of inches.

That height chart was preserved when the kitchen was repainted. But then I left home and eventually my parents sold the home and the record of my physical growth was lost.  What if there was a way to chronicle not just the physical growth of a child, but to create a lasting reminder of your child’s greatest accomplishments?  That is what I call the Growth Board. 

This idea was sparked by a practice I learned about from a very accomplished man, who along with his wife, found a way to profoundly encourage their children.  He chose a finely grained piece of wood, soft enough to carve.  On the “board” as he called it, he would place a knotch, with the date and his child’s height, to mark a special event or achievement in their life journey.  But that wasn’t the only thing they did with the “board”.  They would carefully choose words of inspiration.  Perhaps a quote, a scripture, or even something remarkable the child uttered.  For one son who was so timid he wouldn’t even walk into a store and talk to a teller or clerk, he carved the words “Bold as a Lion” along with the image of a large lion roaring.  In time his son found the courage to overcome his timidity.

With another son he climbed a high mountain but fatigue overcame his son and they never attained the peak.  Instead of allowing disappointment to mar that memory, the father saw a way to chronicle their time together.  He carved an image of an Eagle on the board and found a quote that talked of “Soaring Like an Eagle”. 

Imagine what the Growth Board tradition might mean in a family.  In a family room or den there are several generations of Growth Boards displayed, a visible reminder to the rising generations of the family of the family’s tradition of seeking to develop the gifts we have been blessed with and overcoming our weaknesses and the adversity which inevitably is part of our life journey.

A Growth Board doesn’t have to be limited to fathers and sons. Mothers and daughters should be a part of the Growth Board tradition.  Nor need it be limited to parents.  Even grandfathers and grandmothers can start today to create this Family Totem Pole.  May yours be colorful, meaningful and created with love and your abiding faith in the goodness and unique gifts your children and grandchildren have been blessed with.

 

“When you put faith, hope and love together, you can raise positive kids in a negative world”—Zig Ziglar

 

 

 

 

This is No Place for My Son -- The Story of Mother Meng

 

“The formative period for building character for eternity is in the nursery.  The mother is queen of that realm and sways a scepter more potent than that of kings or priests”—Author Unknown

A Chinese mother watched her son play.  The three year old had observed the burial rituals taking place in the graveyard next to his home.  The boy happily spent hours building miniature tombs and grave mounds.  She whispered to herself, “This is no place to raise my son.”  So the widow and her young son moved.

Their new home was next to the village marketplace.   The young boy watched the merchants and vendors in action along the boisterous marketplace.  Soon he was hawking imaginary wares and haggling with imaginary customers using the same words he had heard in the marketplace. Again the widow muttered, “This is no place for my son.”

This time they moved next to a school house.  Here the Chinese classics were studied.  Now the lad was imitating the scholars and students he saw studying the words of Confucius and other Chinese sages.  His mother smiled and thought, “This is indeed the right place for my son to grow into manhood.”

This mother has been revered in China for more than 24 centuries.  She is known as Mother Meng and her son was Mengzi.  In the West we known him as Mencius.  The choices Mother Meng made to find the right place to raise Mencius would be felt for centuries.  For Mencius became one of the greatest Chinese sages.  He spent great energy influencing the kings and rulers of his day, but even more time and thought defining for all the qualities of the human heart and a life well lived.

There are many choices parents face in the nurture of their children and the activities of their adolescents.  These choices, when purposefully made with the child’s best interest paramount in our minds, may have profound long-term impact on the child. 

I started Kindergarten in a public school just a few minutes from my home.  Three weeks after school began my mother announced I would be going to a different school, one that was a 15 minute drive from our home.  My parents were sure the new school was the “right place” for me.  It was a small, semi-private K-12 school and I would graduate 12 years later with almost 40 students who had started in elementary school with me.  I don't know that there was anything that wrong with the first school.  I just know my mother wanted me to have the best educational experience possible.  And, she and my father were willing to pay the tuition and sacrifice their time to drive me to the new school so I could have the best teachers.  They knew, like Mother Meng, that the right learning environment could have a profound influence on their child.

Some of the parental choices which have the greatest impact are simple lessons in quiet moments.  Let me close by sharing another story from the boyhood of Mencius.  Mother Meng worked hard to support herself and her son with weaving.  One day Mencius cut out of school and came home early.  As he passed his mother weaving at a loom, Mother Meng asked,  “How are you doing at school?” Mencius replied “just so-so.”  She quickly seized a knife and cut across the threads of the loom, leaving the unfinished tapestry frayed and useless.  Shocked that his mother had just destroyed something so vital to their well-being, Mencius blurted, “What have you done?” Quietly she replied, “Neglecting your study is like my cutting the threads on the loom.  We are poor.  You need a good education to establish yourself.  If you stop your study halfway, you’ll accomplish nothing.  When you grow up, you’ll either be somebody’s servant or become a robber.  What difference is there between half-a-weaving and a boy half-educated?” 

Mother Meng’s lesson was both felt and learned. Mencius applied himself diligently thereafter.  He became a revered Confucian scholar.  By the 12^th century his book Mencius had become a classic in Chinese literature, second only to Confucius’ Analects. A mother’s work is never done and she may never know how far her example and lessons will extend.

 

“I will fight for my children on any level so they can reach their potential as human beings”—Princess Diana

 

The Five Second Hugging Practice

"A hug delights and warms and charms,
that must be why God gave us arms."~Author Unknown

In the last couple of months, I've been reflecting on the power of a hug to convey love and friendship, warmth and encouragement, comfort and empathy.  I've looked at both sides of hugs...as a greeting and as a farewell...as well as the wonderful warmth of affirming and empowering hugs.

 In a recent visit with three of my young grandsons in Pennsylvania I was inspired to try an experiment.  What is the optimal duration of a grandfather/grandson hug?  My very small sampling suggests three to five to seconds is ideal for hugs with squirmy young grandsons.  With that research in hand, I dug a little deeper looking for serious scientific inquiries into the question of what the ideal duration of a hug might be.  

To my amazement I found a study by British psychologist Emese Nagy of the duration and nature of hugs among the athletes at the 2008 Summer Olympics.  The average duration of these spontaneous hugs (including touching before and after the embrace) was 4.81 seconds.

But perhaps much more important than the duration of a hug, particularly when it comes to hugs for our children and grandchildren, is the frequencies with which we give hugs.

Virginia Satir, a respected family therapist, has said "(w)e need four hugs a day for survival.  We need eight hugs for maintenance.  We need twelves hugs a day for growth." And, research in a Korea orphanage demonstrated a significant boost in the health and growth of infant orphans who received an extra 15 minutes a day of physical touching.

There is a magic in hugging.  This simple form of affection boosts a young child's mental and physical development.  Hugging aids in the development of life skills.

Sadly, research shows that female infants receive almost five times as much hugging and touching as males.  And the Univ. of Pittsburgh reports that when it comes to soothing, holding or playing, American children receive significantly less contact than those of other cultures.  As our children grow older we tend to forget the importance of hugging.  Yet, it may be as vital for teenagers to be hugged and affirmed as it is for young children.

So let's commit ourselves today to a practice of hugging.  And, here's just some of the myriad daily opportunities for you and your child or grandchild to experience the Fusion of Hugging:

• Say good morning with a hug
• Say good night with a hug and a kiss
• Hug your child when they come home from school or when you get home from work
• Hug your child when you pick them up from day-care or the babysitter's
• Say thank-you with a hug
• Hug them to appreciate when they've done their chores
• Hug your child after a performance or game
• Hug them on your (their) way out the door in the morning
• Hug them and whisper "I Love You" as a Random Moment of Affection
• Hug them before they leave on a date and on their return
• Hug them when they have had a bad day or run into adversity
• Hug them when they recount a special accomplishment or moment in their life

"The best gift you can give is a hug.  One size fits all and no one minds if you return it."
~Author Unknown

 

The Power of Example

“Example is not the main thing in influencing others, it's the only thing”—Albert Schweitzer

Every day, consciously but much more often unconsciously, each of us is transmitting certain behaviors, feelings and lifestyles to others.  It is your choice and mine whether that influence will be a positive and lasting influence.  To move from the positive but fleeting influence to the memorable and lasting influence requires both intention and action.  It is what I call capturing the Power of Example.  

The brightest influence of your personal legacy will be the illuminating power of example and selfless sacrifice.  The following story, offered by Elaine Dalton as a tribute to her father’s influence on her as a child, is an example of how we can create both a positive and lasting influence:

An elderly widow lived next door to Elaine’s family.  Her home was badly in need of paint and exterior maintenance but she didn’t have the money to pay for it.  Instead of offering to pay for the painting of the widow’s home, Elaine’s father took a week of vacation time from his job and marshaled his family to assist in the painting project.  

At the time Elaine thought that was the greatest family vacation she had ever experienced because her father taught her how to paint.  But this selfless act of service had a much more positive and sustaining influence then simply brightening the widow’s home.  It created a bright example which burns brightly today in Elaine’s consciousness and inspires her to find ways to serve others.  This is how she described her father’s influence:

“My father was my hero. I used to wait on the steps of our home for him to arrive each night. He would pick me up and twirl me around and let me put my feet on top of his big shoes, and then he would dance me into the house. I loved the challenge of trying to follow his every footstep. I still do.” 

The wonderful truth about parenting and grandparenting is that we each can be a hero for those who will follow in our footsteps.

What is the one thing in your personal life you would most like to be remembered for?  How can you create an opportunity to indelibly imprint this example upon the minds of your young children or grandchildren?  When will you start and what will be the first step towards creating this legacy moment or project? Who will help you with this project and hold you accountable to complete the task?  

“The legacy of heroes is the memory of a great name and the inheritance of a great example.”—Benjamin Disraeli

Looking Back At Mother’s Day - The Reverse Gift Opportunity

“Do something wonderful, people may imitate it.” - Albert Schweitzer

In a recent post I stressed the powerful opportunity we all have to reflect on the gifts our mothers have given us.  Today, however, I want to suggest to mothers a way in which they can give a gift which will last long after their deaths.  I call this the “Reverse Gift Opportunity”.

A few years ago I was explaining to a client how she could leave a memorandum which would designate whom she wanted to receive her jewelry and other collectibles and keepsakes.  She responded:

“I have such beautiful jewelry and I want to make sure that I don't leave the girls in a position where they might fight over our heirlooms.  And, you know I'm wondering if I could leave the letter I would like to leave to the girls with that memo."

"What kind of letter do you have in mind?" I asked her. 

"Well," she responded, "I just feel like I have to leave a letter to each of my girls like my mother left to me.  You see my dad abandoned us before I was a year old.  My mother did the best job she could to raise me.  But I never saw my dad...don't even remember him and never had any desire to try to find him.  But just after I turned nine my mother died from a terminal illness.  I was forced to live with my grandmother and those were miserable years.  My heart ached for my mother and my grandmother seemed so mean.  I was sure my mother would never approve of all the strict rules my grandmother imposed on me.  By the time I was 14 I was doing everything my grandmother didn't want me to do just to spite her:  I ran with the wrong crowd, didn't do my homework, skipped school frequently, and really was plotting to run away from my grandmother's home.”

“On the morning of my 16^th birthday my grandmother greeted me with a ‘Happy Birthday Karen’ and handed me an envelope.  At first I thought it was from my grandmother but fortunately I looked at the cover and noticed what I thought was my name addressed in my mother's handwriting.  Instead of throwing the envelope away as I had initially intended, I opened it up.  And, there was a handwritten letter of three pages.  In it my mother said something like this:

Dearest Karen,

I've asked your grandmother to deliver this letter to you on your sixteenth birthday.  How I wished I could have lived to see you blow out those 17 candles on your birthday cake on this day.  There are so many things, Karen, that I wanted to do with you.  I wanted to be there to see you walk down the commencement ceremony at your high school graduation in your cap and gown.  I wanted to drive you to College and help you get situated in your dorm.  I wanted to be there when you graduated from College.  I wanted to give you away at your wedding.  I wanted to be there when you brought your first baby home from the hospital..."

By this time Karen was overcome by emotion and even I was reaching for the kleenex box.  When she regained her composure Karen finished the story.  "This letter changed my life.  I suddenly had a reason to be the person my mother had dreamed I would be rather than the person I felt my grandmother was forcing me to be.  I changed my friends.  I began to study and do my homework.  My grades improved immediately and I was able to get a scholarship to a couple of colleges.  I met Charles while a junior at college and went on to earn my college degree.  We got married and have two beautiful daughters.  All the things that my mother dreamed for me have come true."

So it was that night I learned how a letter from the grave, or at least a letter delivered years after the writer's death, could have had such a powerful transformative impact on the life of a child.  Since then I've always tried to share what I have called the “Nine Year Old Orphan’s Letter” idea with the parents of minor children. 

Today, I want to suggest that every mother on Mother’s Day should consider writing a letter to her children and grandchildren.  In these letters or notes you could share your feelings about:

A time when you were a child and you made me so proud

The memories I have of your birth and how grateful I am that you came into my life

My hopes and dreams for your future and how precious the days and hours are that I get to spend with you

If your child is young, all the hopes and dreams I have of things I will be able to do with you and witness in your life

Why I feel like I won the Child Lottery and am the luckiest parent in the whole wide world

What are the traditions, holiday celebrations and rituals you most hope that your children and grandchildren will perpetuate in their lives and what are some of your favorite memories of your time with your child during one of those holidays, rituals or traditions

Don’t just write these letters or notes but read them to your child or grandchild in person, if possible, or over the phone if they live a great distant from you.  Let them hear the emotion behind the words.  And then most importantly, preserve those letters and notes after you have delivered them.

"The great art of giving consists in this: the gift should cost very little and yet be greatly coveted, so that it may be the more highly appreciated." - Baltasar Gracian

 

A Joyful Life – A Mother’s Gift to Her Daughter

“To live joyfully you must be brave. True joy is not for the fainthearted. You must decide to be happy. Joy is an act of courage. Joy will not abide until you make a conscious decision to treasure it… Gratitude is the gateway to joy” - Elaine Marshall

Sometimes an encounter with another human being can be the spark that ignites a powerful and sustaining fire in us.  Parents too often don’t realize that their most powerful influence might come many years after their child has left the nest.

A story Elaine Marshall told in her 2004 address entitled In This Life I Shall Have Joy describes how a mother’s generative words would rekindle her daughter’s soul and lead to a life transforming attitude shift.  Elaine and her mother had volunteered to work at a niece’s wedding reception.  Elaine had been busy putting pink mints on glass plates while her mother and aunt were laboring in the kitchen.  When Elaine returned to the kitchen she overheard a conversation between her mother and her aunt.  She stopped out of their sight and eavesdropped on their conversation about her.  Here is Elaine’s description of how her mother’s words, spoken at a very difficult moment in Elaine’s life, would have a powerful impact on the way Elaine would live the rest of her life:

“The organdy lace wedding apron was barely holding my soul together. I was quietly just hanging on spiritually and emotionally. It was a time in my life of little joy. My mother and her sister were talking…together nearby. I heard my aunt ask my mother, “How is Elaine?” Mom responded, “I believe she has made a decision to be happy. She has a garden and flowers in her yard. She sews and writes, and she works hard. She keeps a clean house and plays beautiful music. Her children are doing well. I think she has decided to be brave and to be happy.”

I wept a few tears as I eavesdropped on my mother’s conversation. I was lonely, tired, and grief stricken. I didn’t know if I had made a conscious decision to be happy. But hearing my mother’s hopeful description of me, I wanted it to be true. So I did decide to be happy. I decided that night to find joy in every day. It has been difficult. But I was brave. I am not so brave every day, but I do try to remember that joy is a decision that requires courage.”

Have you made a conscious decision to be happy and to live a joy-Full life? 

Have you thought about a way in which you might record and share encouraging words which will lift and sustain another?  What if Elaine had not walked in at the moment her mother was speaking those words?  Could Elaine’s mother have written something similar in a note or letter and wouldn’t that have had as powerful an impact?

"In order to know joy, you have to be there. Joy requires presence. My friends know that if I were not too stingy to buy personalized vanity license plates for my car, I would choose my favorite word. The word is vivace. Vivace is an Italian word used in music. It sounds like music. It means life, lively, quickening. It sounds alive. It reminds me to wake up, to be acute and sensitive, alert, alive. It means vitality, la joie de vivre, vibrance, vigor. It reminds me to touch the palpable gift and reality of life" - Elaine Marshall

Honoring Our Mothers – Pausing to Remember Our Mother’s Greatest Gift(s) to Us

“Sometimes our light goes out but is blown again into flame by an encounter with another human being.  Each of us owes the deepest thanks to those who have rekindled this inner light”—Albert Schweitzer, 1952 Nobel Peace Prize Winner

Mother’s Day is Mother’s Day; not Mothers’ Day.  Notice the emphasis on the singular Mother.  It is a day to honor our Mother.  Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have carried us in the womb, labored and travailed to give us physical life.  And for those of us who were adopted, we can be twice grateful: grateful for the gift of life and for the gift of a mother’s nurturing love.

Mother’s Day is a near universal holiday.  While it isn’t celebrated on the same day of the year throughout the world, almost all cultures today have an official day to reflect on and remember the gifts which our mothers have bestowed on us.

In the Arab world Mother’s Day is celebrated on March 21^st.  An Egyptian journalist, Mustafa Amin, is credited with starting this practice in the Muslim nations.  Amin became motivated to promote the idea of a holiday to honor mothers when he heard the story of a widowed mother who devoted her whole life to raising her son.  The son became a doctor, married, and abandoned his mother without showing any gratitude.

Each of us should pause and reflect, not just on the official day set aside to commemorate our mother, but throughout the year on the many ways in which our mother has influenced our lives.  In a sermon on this Mother’s Day I heard the suggestion we try to remember the most significant gift or influence our mother gave us.

What flashed into my mind in that moment was a project I was working on when I was probably in the third or fourth grade.  It was a project for a geography lesson.  We were supposed to make a map using salt dough.  We would color the map with blue for major rivers and large lakes, mountain ranges would be shaded in browns and large forests in green.  We were encouraged to put tiny figures for cows and horses where there were ranches, tractors where there were corn and wheat farms, and a star where the state capitol was located.  As I recall I was supposed to illustrate the State of Texas.   

My mother took the recipe for salt dough which my teacher had provided and prepared a generous supply of salt dough and the cardboard on which I would construct my map of Texas.  I worked well past my bed time and had just about completed my map when something went terribly wrong.  I don’t remember today just what it was.  I think it may have been a spill of the food coloring which was used to color code the map.  In any event I suffered an emotional melt-down when I saw that my almost perfect map was going to be much less than perfect.  In my frustration I pounded on the map doing much more damage than the spill of the food coloring and burst into sobs.

My mother tried to console me and assured me that she could fix the damage I had done.  My parents put me to bed.  I don’t know how late it was but I suspect it was at least an hour or two later than my normal bed-time and we had been working on this project for three or four hours.

When I arose the next morning my mother, perhaps with some help from my father, had reconstructed the map.  She had started over and tried to redo the whole map.  The second version was much better than the first and I proudly carried it to school the next morning.  I had never reflected until this Mother’s Day on just how late my mother must have stayed up to repair the damage my temper tantrum had done.  I feel deep emotion rolling up inside me today as I contemplate how powerful an energy source at that late hour of the night a mother’s love for her child is.

What was your mother’s greatest gift to you?  What positive influence from your mother is still felt in your life today? 

As you reflect on that greatest gift, and on your mother’s love and positive emotional energy in your life, record those feelings and describe the story of your mother’s gift and influence.  You, and those who are privileged to read this story, will always be grateful you took the time to pause and reflect. It will be a legacy that can last well beyond the grave.

My mother said to me, "If you become a soldier, you'll be a general; if you become a monk, you'll end up as the Pope." Instead, I became a painter and wound up as Picasso—Pablo Picasso