When I first had my son, I had a long list of lofty intentions, most of which went down the drain once the reality of motherhood kicked in. Zero screen time, vegetables with every meal, classical music playing in the background. One by one these mothering badges fell away as I grew to find balance in my new role as mom and fell comfortably into an 80/20 rule of parenting.
However, one idealist notion never left my head— I wanted him to live for others. I wanted to teach him to serve others, to love others, to seek out those who are forgotten and bring them into the fold. To find the value in every person he meets and see the light in them.
I snapped up pamphlets at the library and community events showcasing teens building housing for the poor or dishing out food in a soup kitchen. I couldn’t wait for him to grow up so he could have that chance, but every opportunity seemed so far off.
Suddenly I realized that as I was dreaming of the day my son could serve and see the value in others, I was failing to see the value in him.
My son was only two years old. His resume was brief and his skill set was limited: he could stand still for approximately 3.5 seconds, occasionally wave at an adult on command, and go for at least 10 minutes without requesting a snack.
And he could smile. And laugh. And be young. And be love. And that was all he needed to be to serve.
Our visits to the retirement home started out as a single event planned with a small group of mothers. We wore our Halloween costumes and “reverse trick-or-treated” through the retirement home, passing out candy and visiting along the way. Over the course of that first visit it became apparent that these two special groups of people, the very young and the very old, needed each other in so many different ways. One wanted to be seen, the other wanted to be remembered. One lived in the moment, the other in the past.
Both wanted to be loved.
Our single visit evolved into a monthly event where a group of mothers would bring their little ones to the retirement home to sing, dance, and love. Over the two years of visits to the retirement home, we had babies in arms that could offer only a gummy smile and a chubby pink hand to five year olds who sang solos of their own composition. But no matter their age, every child had something to offer and something to gain.
In exchange for the life, joy, and laughter our children brought into the room, they received a chance to extend themselves, to connect to others, and to find value in every new interaction.
Through the course of our visits, we developed a routine and strategies for successfully managing both our youngest and oldest visitors. Over the coming blog posts, I want to share with you more details of our experiences and give some tips to start a successful visit of your own.
Until then, take a moment to consider the pure joy your child has within them, and seek out opportunities to share it with the world.
Loved your blog article. I too felt the longing in my heart to meet the needs of those around me but not just by myselt. I developed a club for kids 3rd grade to 5th. These kids were too young for youth group but wanted more than regular after school activities. We cooked meals for the elderly and We visited nursing homes and did craft projects or played bingo. At first the kids didnt realize how important the activity was until they saw the happiness and joy it brought to the faces of those needy folks.
The people we helped never forgot it and we had our hearts warmed by their gratefulness
Great Article! How fortunate your children will be to have this experience.
You remind me of a lovely lady in our community- Kristen Deboy Caminiti. She founded a group called ‘Crofton is Kind’ an organization of parents and community members fostering kindness in our children. Check the site out when you get a chance. I think you two could be soul sisters.
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