Our morning ritual when Greg heads off to work each day...
A parent loses his opportunity for good to his child, if he fails to have sympathy with this child in that child's weakness and follies and misdoings. It is in every child's nature to long for sympathy at the point where he needs it most; and when he has done wrong, or has indulged evil thoughts, or is feeling the force of temptation, he is glad to turn to some one stronger and better than himself, and make confession of his faults and failures. If as he comes to his parents at such a time, he is met with manifest sympathy, he is drawn to his parents with new confidence and new trust.
~ Charlotte Mason
The first time I read this quote, it really touched me. I think it impacted me a lot because having sympathy and compassion for my children in their weaknesses isn't my first instinct. When they make poor choices, I can be a real lecturer. Somehow I'm always afraid my children won't learn from their mistakes without me reminding them about this or that or how we "should" behave.
I realized that I am operating under the assumption they really don't know right from wrong. I have believed they somehow needed me to point out the distinction to them or there's no way they could learn it.
Charlotte Mason's approach, however, shows an intrinsic belief and trust in the child's own judgment. It proposes they do indeed already know they have done something wrong, and their own conscience is doing more teaching than a parent could ever do. When I first wanted to try this, I actually was afraid that really loving behavior and sympathy (after they've done something wrong) would somehow give them a positive reward for negative behavior. I wondered if it would do the opposite of what I wanted.
However, the idea really spoke to me, so I've been working on this approach with the kids for a while. Sometimes I remember, and sometimes I don't, but I have really liked what it has done for my relationship with the kids. When I discover something wrong, or they come and tell me about something they've done, I try to respond to them with sympathy. It creates kind of a special moment (especially compared to the adverse effect that is usually created), and they really do feel the weight of their choice without anything from me but sorrow and support. I can tell that they feel like I'm on their team, and I'm just as sorry as they are that they made an unwise choice. It makes me feel like they know I love them still in spite of their decision.
To be truly honest, when I make poor choices (which I certainly do), it is very clear to me that I have the same "longing for sympathy where I need it most" just like my kids do. I want to turn to someone "stronger and better" for help with my follies who doesn't judge harshly or reprimand me. I know when I've done something wrong and I appreciate a kind support to guide me through the consequences of the choices I've made.
Have a lovely evening! ~Emily
I find that immediate sympathy is the first course of action at our house as well. Elder Holland said in a talk "Come Unto Me", "The Lord has probably spoken enough such "comforting words" to supply the whole universe, it would seem, and yet we see all around us unhappy Latter-day Saints, worried Latter-day Saints, and gloomy Latter-day Saints into whose troubled hearts not one of these innumerable consoling words seems to be allowed to enter. In fact, I think some of us must have that remnant of Puritan heritage still with us that says it is somehow wrong to be comforted or helped, that we are supposed to be miserable about something.
ReplyDeleteConsider, for example, the Savior's benediction upon his disciples even as he moved toward the pain and agony of Gethsemane and Calvary. On that very night, the night of the greatest suffering the world has ever known or ever will know, he said, "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you. . . . Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid" (John 14:27).
I submit to you that may be one of the Savior's commandments that is, even in the hearts of otherwise faithful Latter-day Saints, almost universally disobeyed; and yet I wonder whether our resistance to this invitation could be any more grievous to the Lord's merciful heart. I can tell you this as a parent: As concerned as I would be if somewhere in their lives one of my children were seriously troubled or unhappy or disobedient, nevertheless I would be infinitely more devastated if I felt that at such a time that child could not trust me to help, or should feel his or her interest were unimportant to me or unsafe in my care. In that same spirit, I am convinced that none of us can appreciate how deeply it wounds the loving heart of the Savior of the world when he finds that his people do not feel confident in his care or secure in his hands or trust in his commandments."
Long quote I know -- I probably should have added the whole talk, but that idea of us being truly comforting parents is the way I want create a similitude for my kids to see a kind Heavenly Father. So that's my two cents! Love Charlotte's quote. And her name. She rocks.