Teachable Moments

A few weeks back, I was at the super market with all three kids. Which as many with kids know can be a hellish interesting experience. While zipping through the store, with my half written list, one child eating Goldfish crackers and the other two letting go of the cart to give me their “sales pitch” on on various unhealthy foods that we must purchase for the mere fact that Lightening McQueen is on the box, I make my way to the frozen foods.

I stop.

There is a woman standing right in front of the frozen waffles. I excuse myself to grab a box, and she says, “Can you help me? My hands are so sore.” I nod my head, and get a box of waffles for her. I notice her hands are resting backside up on the handle of her grocery cart, too weak to grip. I then say, “Miss (I’m not a fan of calling someone Ma’am, as I was near tears when a teenager did it to me once) is everything ok?”

She begins to cry, telling me that she just finished her last round of chemo that morning. That she has a cab waiting outside. That she hopes the cancer is gone. That her grandkids are coming for the weekend and she needs food in the house. That her daughter was supposed to help her at the store today and couldn’t make it. That she thought she could do it herself. That she thinks she is going to just go home.

I reply, “No, we will help you.” The kids by now are listening. Russell and George IMMEDIATELY get to work, when I say the word help. Russell asks the woman, “What else are you going to buy? I will get it.” George says, “Can I push your cart, please?”

We follow the woman around getting our groceries and her groceries, putting anything in her cart that she needs. The boys talking to her, asking her such important questions as “Do you like the Chicago Bears?” and “What’s your favorite color?”

We get to the checkout. The woman thanks us, and tells us that the cab driver can help her from here.

The kids and I checkout. We get to the car. Load everything in. Put everyone in carseats. Buckle up.

I stop.

Russell says, “Mommy, that woman was a stranger.”

“Yes, Russell, she was, but Mommy is here to keep you safe.”

“I don’t like seeing people that are sad. Why was she sad?”

“Because she is sick.”

“I don’t like being sick. I’m glad we helped her.”

George chimes in, “Being sad is not fun.”

I reply, “No, George, being sad is no fun. Thank you for helping.”

That night as I had just told all three munchkins to put their clothes in the hamper for the millionth time.

I stop. I smile. I tear up.

It dawns on me. Even though these kids can drive me insane, they are starting to catch on to the important things in life. Brian and I have done something right. Today my kids helped someone in need. They understand kindness.

As a mother of young kids, it is hard to see the payoff from your labors. Months of, “Say please and thank you.” Hours of setting the timer so they can see the concept of “turn for turn”. Years of trying to lead by example. I finally am getting to see that my kids understand. Even though they are so young, they are starting to understand.

Now, excuse me while I go break up a three way screaming match over Secretariat our rocking horse (hey, no one is perfect all the time).

Linking up at Mom of 6 Share Your Life.