Compassion and Kids

Have you ever witnessed a child being humiliated by their parent? I recently witnessed a mother pulling her son by the ear and pushing him into their car with her knee outside of a McDonalds. A sickness rose to my stomach and I yelled out my car window from the street, "Stop doing that to your son!" She turned to me, shrugged, and said, "He's my son, not yours." I suppose if I were to ask that mother why she chose such a violent form of discipline she'd say she's trying to teach him to cooperate. She'd probably tell me how bad her son is, how badly he had behaved, and how he needed to be "dealt" with. She probably has no idea that children who are bullied often become bullies themselves.

I have come to reject the idea that children are inherently evil and need that evil driven from them,a belief held by many. One of the reasons I have come to reject this idea is that I have observed many interactions where children are viewed as and treated as "bad." Unfortunately, we humans tend to behave the way people expect us to. We tend to believe the labels that our parents or teachers or peer groups give us.

I remember one heart-breaking moment when I was babysitting two little girls. I told the older sister that she was "such a good sister." I will never forget the look she gave me when she realed her head around and asked me in all seriousness, "do you really think I am good? My mom tells me that I am bad all the time." With as sincere a voice I could convey, I replied, "You know, all of us have some good and some bad in us. But I see a lot of good in you."

Though I believe each human has the potential for contributing evil to the world, I prefer to view each child (and each grown up child) as made in the divine image of a loving Creator, with great potential for much good. I wonder if we were to spend as much energy, if not more, nourishing the good in our children (and in ourselves) as we do discouraging the "bad," if our world would be that much fuller of love and goodwill.

There's a group from our church who meets in our home to encourage one another in life and faith. Most of us are parents, and recently we found ourselves lamenting about our self-centered, entitled children despite our best attempts at teaching gratefulness. However, on Sunday morning during our worship gathering, I watched as many children were moved to compassion without a parent or teacher telling them to be so. It was a special Sunday morning-a morning where we invited all the children out of their regular classrooms for a presentation on Compassion's child sponsorship program.

We watched a video clip about a little girl from Guatemala who lost her mother and whose father is physically disabled and unable to provide for his family. This little girl, at only ten years of age, does all the cooking, laundry (by hand), and other household duties. Thankfully, she has a sponsor who helps make it possible to receive an education, proper nutrition, and medical help.

After the service, I stood at the Compassion table as several families came back to sort through profiles of children awaiting a sponsor. More than one family was directed there by one of their children who said, "Can we do that?" Two girls completed the sponsor information under their own name. These children innately recognized the injustice of poverty, and their spirits were moved with compassion.

I often find myself trying to shame my children into seeing their mistakes. The other day my daughter was giving me a lot of sass. I tried correcting her which turned into us arguing which turned into me giving her sass. None of it was appealing to her conscience. I finally gave up and decided to try a completely different approach. I sat down beside the couch where she was sitting, looked her in the eye, and took her hand in mine. I told her that I cannot make her understand how her words hurt me, but that I forgive her. I told her that she is a very kind and generous girl, but that when she gets frustrated, she at times loses control of her words and they become hurtful to others. I told her that I hope she learns how to control her words as she grows and matures. I told her that I love her. After I finished, she miraculously said, "I'm sorry, Mommy."

My daughter is inherently good. She has divine imprints of Love and Grace all overhear being. I must choose to see that and help her to see that. I want her to believe that. I want to model patience and generosity and integrity and gratefulness, believing that someday her young soul will grow and mature and offer those things to a broken, yet beautifully-loved world.