Teaching compassion

You know, when you dive into the motherhood thing, you worry about eating and sleeping schedules, dry skin, or diaper rash. You just don't immediately contemplate the depth of the mysteries you'll need to teach your children. You don't list out the virtues that you'll need to instill in your children to make them well-rounded, good people. You really don't think a lot about all of this when you're pregnant, let alone when you're dealing with sleep-deprivation at 3am, or their refusing to eat their vegetables when they're 16-months-old, or when they're throwing temper tantrums at your feet when they're two while you're cooking dinner. You manage each hurdle, obstacle, trial as they come, thinking most of the time on your feet, instantly second-guessing yourself at some turns. And, you pray that they let you have a 10-minute phone conversation, or behave well while you go to the grocery store. You manage, minute by minute, task by task, and try to be consistent, even though you're too tired to remember how to spell some words. But, how does it happen that we teach our kids kindness? Or, honesty? Or hope? Or compassion?

It seems that in the balance of what we do, the amount of US that we pour into our kids, the times that we sacrifice for them, that they learn it. It seems that in our conversations with our friends (reminder to BE A GOOD FRIEND!), in our kindnesses to our husbands, in our concern for their hurts or the needs of another, we impart it to them. When we stop what we're doing to kiss a scraped knee, or when we carefully tape a ripped picture back together, or when we pause to undo a knot or broken toy or stuck gamepiece, or when we give them choices, we teach them compassion. We teach them understanding. We teach them sacrifice. We teach them kindness. We teach them concern. We teach them to be peacemakers. We teach them to be gentle. We teach them to love. They love like we do. They repeat what we say. And, someday, they will mother (or father) like we do. We teach them these virtues in the "between the lines" parts of the day. They become a concert of our best and worst features, character traits, and qualities.

My reminder for today, this day:

That, although my daughter will forgive my mistakes, she may learn them and repeat them. As much as I need grace to accomplish mothering her with success, I also need to remember there is no other job as important. My character is both on display and on trial in who she is and who she becomes.

Yesterday, Sophia gave me a picture with stickers on it. She was so proud. She pointed out "the six stickers JUST for me". I had been angry with Bri and yelling. I had found quiet and solace upstairs on the computer (of course). She was upset that I was yelling, and so she brought me the picture and said, "Mom, this reminds me of you. And your heart. And, inside, that is love. Does that make you feel happy?" ...to the point of bursting, Soph.

Compassion... check.