Four Lessons. When I became pregnant with our first child in 2002, my husband and I were inundated with advice and old wives tales. I recall my aunts saying, “You can tell whether you’re having a girl if you’re carrying high.” Or was it “low?” We had a boy. Two of them. One is now six years old and the other is four.
Children bring the rediscovery of how fun it is to watch ants scurry on the sidewalk, butterflies emerge from a cocoon or experience the peacefulness of observing crawdads in a rippling creek.
Many times the gift children give us is just to make us laugh. A ten-year-old was helping his mother at our office one day when he saw one guy’s desk stacked high with many messy papers. “Looks like he’s got lots of work to do,” Owen observed. I got a good laugh out of that. It brightened my day.
A father’s influence goes to the fourth generation after him. A popular music artiste’s parents divorced when she was in kindergarten. When she grew old, together with her lover, she smoked crack in the presence of their five-year-old daughter. This artiste later died of drug abuse at age 48, while her young daughter died at age 22 for similar reasons. Great careers and, more importantly, great lives were thereby lost due to weak fatherhood.
The story goes that some time ago, a man punished his 3-year-old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and he became infuriated when the child tried to decorate a box to put under the Christmas tree. Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said, “This is for you, Daddy.”
Time to Fly from the Nest Ginny and I sat on the deck, like we do a lot, and watched the world flow by. A robin flew into the tree in the yard. It had a twig in its mouth. “Looks like they’re building a nest,” Ginny said. “I think you’re right.” I watched the robin select a perfect spot and thread the branch into position. A second robin with a twig joined the first. Throughout the next few days, we watched the mates work together to construct a resting place for their soon-to-be-laid eggs. The nest was completed. A few days later, momma bird settled into her new home. The two parents took turns warming the eggs, always aware of the needs of the other and their precious charge. Each knew the other needed nourishment and the eggs needed warmth. It was a perfect partnership. Every hour or less, the two robins traded places keeping the eggs safe, while the other flew off in search of warmth. The rains fell. At night, the temperatures dropped below freezing, but the two robins, who chose a safe position for their nest, stuck by their eggs. They knew their duties. The wind blew; the tree rocked, and the robins held tight. The eggs would not fall on their watch. A week or