My daughters were having a conversation one day and admitted that they didn’t know how they could ever be mothers because – wait for it! – they didn’t think they could ever eat bruised fruit.
I had to laugh at this admission. First, because they have noticed that I do that, and second, because when I ponder all the challenges of motherhood, eating does not even make the list!
Eating imperfect fruit is just something I do. I always explain that I am cheap and hate to waste food. If a plum has blemished skin, or if dinner from two nights ago is still sitting in the fridge, I offer the freshest foods to my children and eat the “cast-offs” myself. I don’t consider this difficult. It’s simply the way it is.
Of course, it’s not just parents who put others first. I am sure we can all think of obvious examples – and far more momentous and critical acts of selflessness – in the feats of first responders, health care workers, and counsellors.
We can also recognize a sense of “other” in simplicity: in the coach who gives a child the best bat and takes the dented one for themselves, or in the handwriting teacher who gives the student the sharpest pencil while they take a dull stub. These people offer the best tools and the best of themselves to help another person reach their own potential.
Before I had children, I worried about far more than who would eat the old fruit in our fridge. I feared the pain of childbirth and a lack of sleep. I anticipated moments of feeling under the weather and being expected to chase a toddler when I’d rather wrap myself in a warm blanket and sip tea. I will also admit that I worried about cleaning up vomit, making wrong decisions, and not having enough money. These fears materialized, but they were not as bad as I had thought. I almost feel that I should warn my children that, above everything else, regret has been my biggest challenge.
I regret not fully utilizing my time with my kids. I regret making them feel the brunt of my exhaustion and keeping them at a distance when I have been stressed and trying to process my own thoughts and emotions. I regret subjecting them to my impatience, my harsh words, and my snappy tone of voice while everyone outside of our walls sees my best. While I forego things for my children, as a mother I have often failed to give the best of my very self to them.
To me, these big emotions are far more worthy of fear than eating less-than-perfect food, yet noticing small sacrifices is where Christlike behaviour begins. Did I notice when my parents lost their patience? Yes, but I took greater note when I got new shoes and my mom did not, or when she took the tiniest piece of cake to ensure there would be enough to go around. While these denials may be second nature to adults, to children they are very significant.
Regardless of our vocation, small denials of self allow us to grow as individuals. Giving the best to others may begin with material things, but it needs to grow to include the best we have to offer of ourselves. Since I am human, at times the best I can do is apologize for my shortcomings.
This morning, as I threw some slightly expired yogourt and a handful of wilted spinach into my smoothie, I prayed for the grace to realize the gift of putting others first. I become discouraged when I lose my patience, when I mutter things under my breath, or when I am less-than-Christlike in my reactions; however, my children notice more than my mistakes, and I need to do the same.
That they worry about having the ability to make small sacrifices themselves one day tells me that they are growing up. Noticing Christlike behaviour is the first step towards embodying it, and I pray that they continue on this path.
I pray that they will be strong, other-centred adults who can handle life’s challenges – including the bruises.