A Boy and a Tissue
My day was just not going well. I hadn't slept well, and my stomach felt icky and my nose was running and I couldn't stop sneezing. Plus I had a headache. And I was trying to explain a difficult math problem to one kid while running through some math flash cards with another, and the 2 year old really wanted to be in my lap. I couldn't hear the 10 year old's answers over my sneezing and blowing my nose, and the 8 year old was pretty distracted by my respiratory distress. It was only 9:15 and I was already crabby and feeling impatient and trying to hide it, which made me more crabby. I just wanted to go back to bed and pull the covers over my head and let the kids take a day off and watch movies. And then I thought how pitiful my excuses were for being crabby- lots of moms with way fewer resources and support and way more problems than I have are doing what I'm doing and probably doing it joyfully. Days like that really make me wonder if putting them in school would solve my "problems."
But then, out of nowhere, or, rather, out of another room in the house, the 5 year old came into the kitchen with a kleenex box and said: "Here you go, mom!" Why didn't I think of that? I was too busy being really important to look for a kleenex box and put it on the table, so I was reusing an old tissue that was in my pocket, and a napkin left over from breakfast. Notebook paper was next.
Way more than the practicality of his gesture, which was, I think, impressive for a 5 year old, was the tender heartedness he showed. After thanking him and giving him a hug, I asked him what made him think to bring me a box of tissues, just out of curiosity. He said he knew there wasn't any in the kitchen and I needed it, and could he go play with his Legos now?
Sure, if all the kids had been in school, I wouldn't have been frustrated trying to teach them over my runny nose. I would have been on the couch, snuggled with the 2 year old and a box of tissue. But then, I would have completely missed a sweet moment, a moment when someone small thought of me and what I needed and simply brought it to me. Such a little thing, really, but my life is made up of these little moments and gestures. It seemed so unimportant, and I could have easily missed it if he had brought the box while I was in the middle of a sneezing fit. But I didn't miss it, not that time. No, sending them off to school would not solve anything, and I would be bereft of being ministered to by my children. Left to fetch the tissues myself.
But then, out of nowhere, or, rather, out of another room in the house, the 5 year old came into the kitchen with a kleenex box and said: "Here you go, mom!" Why didn't I think of that? I was too busy being really important to look for a kleenex box and put it on the table, so I was reusing an old tissue that was in my pocket, and a napkin left over from breakfast. Notebook paper was next.
Way more than the practicality of his gesture, which was, I think, impressive for a 5 year old, was the tender heartedness he showed. After thanking him and giving him a hug, I asked him what made him think to bring me a box of tissues, just out of curiosity. He said he knew there wasn't any in the kitchen and I needed it, and could he go play with his Legos now?
Sure, if all the kids had been in school, I wouldn't have been frustrated trying to teach them over my runny nose. I would have been on the couch, snuggled with the 2 year old and a box of tissue. But then, I would have completely missed a sweet moment, a moment when someone small thought of me and what I needed and simply brought it to me. Such a little thing, really, but my life is made up of these little moments and gestures. It seemed so unimportant, and I could have easily missed it if he had brought the box while I was in the middle of a sneezing fit. But I didn't miss it, not that time. No, sending them off to school would not solve anything, and I would be bereft of being ministered to by my children. Left to fetch the tissues myself.
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