By Margi Washburn
I sat in church that Sunday morning and couldn't help but notice how the sun highlighted the child's hair. She was busy arranging papers and crayons before the service started; she had been coming for some time and she knew it would be time to be quiet soon.
When the time came for the children to come forward for their own mini-sermon, she skipped up to the front with at least a dozen other kids. I don't know how much of what was said sunk in, but the little girl was dutifully respectful while the pastor spoke. After their prayer, she walked back to sit with her parents and you could tell she was almost losing the urge to run. Kids love to run, you know, unless it's time to go to bed or to the doctor. But this young lady did not forget: no running in church.
I couldn't help but wonder that day about kids and their ability to forgive and forget. Okay, they don't always forget but it's different somehow. For instance, when hubby and I were visiting his mom one night and our niece was there, we got ready to leave. She's only three years old and as beautiful as they come. She also has that sweet gullibleness reserved for kids that age.
“You going home now?” she asked.
“Yup. It's late and we have to get to bed,” said hubby.
“But it's dark,” she said, her eyes wide as she looked from the window to the two of us.
“Oh, no, we'll have to stay here all night,” hubby said, as he sat back down.
Well, that was going to be a problem because our niece was spending the night there too, and now she wanted to know where we were going to sleep. We could see the worry on her little face so we assured her we would be okay. Coats on, we started for the door.
“You'll be okay,” she assured us. “Go home now.”
A few nights later we were getting ready to leave again, and you can guess what we heard. “You going home? You're a-scared of the dark. It's dark outside,” she said.
She didn't forget, and what she was thinking was written all over her face. At a mere three years old, our niece knew what it was like to be afraid of the dark and she cared enough to remind us.
I guess I can't stop wondering when kids stop caring, when forgiving and forgetting aren't a part of their makeup any more. I wonder when they remember one another's weaknesses and begin to exploit them, to turn against those they care for and instead use what they know to hurt one another.
It doesn't happen to the same degree with every child. And some kids simply refuse to hurt others; instead, they'll suck it up and try to work through the pain on their own. Sometimes that works and it teaches empathy. Other times it creates wound after wound that builds too many scars.
If all schools don't teach classes on a topic such as this, I wish they would. I've heard that some do because it's been reported that the technique used is similar to play-acting. A scenario is given and students act out both sides of a hurtful behavior until, hopefully, empathy is learned.
I have an idea about who could teach such a class. Actually, there are two little girls just perfect for the job. You've met them through this column and you won't find anyone more qualified. They know how to make the sun shine all the time, trust me.
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