Zach was six, Elizabeth was three and Olivia was just over a
year-old the day we walked into the grocery store and were ‘confronted’ by an
elderly woman who was well-known in our small town. Her name was “Virgie”, and
in addition to suffering from dementia, she was living in poverty, completely
alone, wandered around town all day long talking to whoever would give her a
minute or two of their day. On this particular day "Virgie" was living in the
part of her past that included small children. When she saw Olivia in the cart,
she took her out quicker than I could bat an eye, and began to pat her back and rock her gently back and forth
saying, “You’re my sweet baby. Isn’t my baby sweet?” while I was tying
Elizabeth’s shoe.
It took only a second for me to realize Olivia wasn’t scared
and that Virgie wasn’t going anywhere. In fact, Olivia was completely
unaffected, but nevertheless, I quickly and gently proceeded to take Olivia
back while agreeing with “Virgie” that yes, she was a sweet and beautiful baby.
Zach, on the other hand, was not nearly as calm or forgiving of the intrusion.
“She’s not your baby, she’s our baby,” he repeated two or
three times. “Tell her, Mom, Olivia is our baby. She needs to give her back.”
The whole incident lasted no more than a couple of minutes, but
it was time enough to provide a HUGE ‘teachable moment’ and I didn’t want to mess it up. So
once Olivia was back in my arms, I moved the kids away from "Virgie" and
reassured them that I wouldn’t have ever
allowed her to hurt Olivia. I told them I knew she wasn’t going to because she
really did think Olivia was her baby. Elizabeth accepted my words without much comment,
but when I asked Zach if he understood, he said something to the effect of “You
didn’t want to hurt that lady’s feelings because that's not nice and because you didn’t want her to hurt
Olivia.”
Yes, that was pretty much it. In not lashing out at "Virgie" I
taught my young son that no one is
undeserving of being treated the way we want to be treated. Or in this case,
the way I wanted my loved one to be treated.
I knew “Virgie” was harmless and that she posed no risk to
my daughter, so by not ‘going off’ on her that day I was able to give her
a brief moment of the joy of memories past AND teach the kids what kindness to
strangers looks like. I know this isn’t always the case—that we most definitely
need to teach our children the whole stranger-danger ‘thing’. But I also know
that equally important is our job to be consciously and deliberately teaching
our children that everyone deserves to be respected and treated the way we want
to be treated…even people who are different from us, because we never know when
extending that kind of kindness might be the brightest spot in their day.
Love,
Momma D
Copyright 2016 Darla Noble. No part of this can be used or copied without permission from the author.
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