Life’s Lessons

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I have a story I want to share.

A life lesson really.

It was perfect…. especially for my 10 year old who thinks we live the ‘most horrible life ever’.

Garrett is prone to complaining sometimes.

Ok, he is 10. A lot might be more like it- especially lately.

If he tells me we are poor one more time because I will not rush out and buy him the newest XBox 360 game release, which costs almost as much as a tank of gas for our suburban, I just might pack up all of his toys and donate them to Goodwill.

But I keep in mind he is 10.

There are days he really just does not understand that we are a family of many. He often wishes out loud that he were an only child. He struggles to appreciate his siblings at times, especially when they destroy his bedroom. And the lecturing mom in me is quick to remind Garrett that someday these little pains in the necks will be helping him move into his first apartment or will be sharing the happy adult times in life with him.

Again, he is 10.

When I make dinner and he turns his nose at the ‘most disgusting food’ I could have possibly placed before him, I try hard to smile as I hand it too him really wanting to knock him in the middle of next week where he will surely be complaining that he is bored because he has no one to play with. It never fails he finally tastes the food and usually really likes it and is honestly glad he tried it.

I brace myself and remind myself- he is 10.

I did not raise him to be this way. I do not condone these behaviors. But as parents we are responsible in the end for somehow creating this child who lacks gratitude some days and forgets to be appreciative of what he has.

But all the lecturing or verbal redirecting does not teach the lesson of a story that unfolded right before our eyes last weekend. The little boy who regularly believes life is not fair.

Friday afternoon when we were coming home from after school pickup, there was a lady walking down the sidewalk by our home. She had a fairly new baby cradled in her arms and covered in a blanket, a little girl that could not be more than 4 and a little boy who could not be more than 2 or 3, trailing behind her. We waited patiently in the car for them to pass by our driveway. The little ones looked like baby ducks following their momma. Garrett and I just both smiled. I assumed they were either enjoying the nice day or just walking somewhere nearby- maybe the park?

Saturday, mid-morning, as Lenny and I loaded kids into the car to make one more attempt in finding the ‘perfect’ Halloween costume for Garrett (he is so mistreated isn’t he? multiple trips to Party City, Halloween USA and Walmart and still he could not find a costume he liked) here is the lady walking down the sidewalk by our house again. Garrett and I immediately notice and remember her from the day before and we begin to realize this is how she gets where she is going. Garrett’s words to me were Momma, that is sad… she does not have a car.

Lenny gets the lady’s attention and yells Perdón señora por favor, un minuto (Pardon me ma’am one minute, please). He runs inside remembering we have a couple of umbrella strollers in the coat closet and we can defiantly spare one.

She and the children stop. As Lenny runs into the house I try to engage in conversation with her…. a little difficult as she does not speak English and I failed high school Spanish. We are not going to get far on the one phrase I know and know well….

Poner su chicle en la basura por favor. This translates to put your gum in the trash please.

The only thing I honestly learned after an entire semester of Spanish and it was simple because the teacher posted a sign above the trash with this statement written on it.

I try to talk to her- acting out ‘stroller’ as I push my arms away from my body pretending to play Charades.

And as Lenny comes to the rescue with the umbrella stroller I am left thinking how is she going to do this? The umbrella stroller is not meant for a new baby, it is not stable enough. If she puts the little boy in there how is she going to push the umbrella stroller while holding her baby?

Then I remember, I have the duo glider double stroller left from when the twins were little. They have outgrown it. It has just been hanging around here waiting for someone who can use it.

Lenny and I stand there struggling to communicate with her putting up one finger asking her to hold on, we have one more stroller you can use.

Let me add here I am a typical white girl. I talk louder and slower and use lots of hand movement when there is a language barrier thinking I am somehow making an attempt to be understood.

The kids are all looking on from the car.

Lenny comes running out of the house with this huge double stroller and we struggle for a minute to get it open as it has been a while since we’ve needed to use it. He speaks very little Spanish as well, believe it or not. For a Puerto Rican, he can not even order his chicken bowl at Chipotle in Spanish.

We show her how to lean the back seat so it will recline and she can place the now crying sweet baby in the stroller. The little boy hops right in the front carrier. Lenny and I are wiping it down as it has been a while since it has been used, after all, the twins will be 4 in February.

I am trying to explain to her that it needs a good cleaning once she gets it home, and she just kindly nods, so excited that she now has a stroller. She takes the umbrella stroller as well, figuring out a way to maneuver and let it hang from the stroller she is pushing so she can get it home with her.

I tell her to come back in a few days. I have tons of stuff I can give her. She continues to nod having no idea what in the world I am saying so loud and so slow as I use my arms and hands as a way to better explain.

She thanks us as best she can. It felt so good. It really did. Lenny and I stood there and watched them stroll away, life a little easier now.

I am not telling you this for a golden star. I am not telling you this to toot our horns or to be praised.

I am telling you this because often times I am hard pressed to find the perfect way, or the right way, to teach these lessons to my kids.

The lessons we lecture them about. The lessons they roll their eyes to. The things parents are supposed to be instilling.

Lenny and I get in the car and Garrett looks so proud as he stares at us. With pure empathy he says he can not believe how sad it is that some people do not have a car. He realizes how hard that must make things for them.

I remind him how lucky we are- how good our life is. For this lady, not having a car is probably only where the road blocks begin. I remind him how much we do have and finally he agrees. Finally I get through to him and into his 10 year old brain- the one that has been taken over by the American Way.

It was perfect. A lesson without lecture. And it all unfolded right before his little eyes.

I am certain he will remember it for a long, long time. I know I will. I learned a lot that day as well.