At my day job as a cashier at an upscale, organic foods co-op, I have lots of mostly pleasant and mostly superficial interactions with lots of mostly middle-class customers. Occasionally, customers will reveal something about themselves that gives me a glimpse into a unique and lovable human being. Those moments always feel like a gift, a pure shot of oxygen.
Last week, a woman in her 40s brought her groceries to my station and idly picked up one of the ubiquitous coupon books stacked in front of the register. Instead of opening the book to look for coupons as most customers do, she was completely captured by the little book’s cover photo.
It showed a four-year-old child covered head to toe in a heavy snowsuit and boots, lying belly down on a snow saucer, arms flung exultantly out to the sides, a grin of pure joy on her face, sledding down a hill.
The customer mused, half to herself and half to me, “I never did that when I was a kid. My mother would never have let me go head first.” She showed me the photo, went back to looking at it and murmured, “That’s freedom…head first.” She put back the coupon book, looked at me and said, “I think I’ll do that next winter.”
Wow! I think I will adopt that sentiment right now and in the weeks ahead as Arnold and I plan our first trip to Europe. “Head first. . . that’s freedom.”
It’s a never-ending balancing act for parents. On the one hand, you want to protect your children from grievous harm; on the other hand, you want to give your children the freedom to fail, make mistakes, succeed, and ultimately learn from their experiences, finding sadness, joy, exhilaration in the process. I suspect that often we could opt for more freedom and less restriction by employing critical thought to the challenge at hand, and acting out of unconditional and pure love, and deep respect, for the personhood of our children. “That’s freedon…head first” is a worthy goal for us all, I think. Thanks for the thought-provoking post, Shawna!
I love this. Those moments really do feel like a gift.
Right on , Shawna. I’ve thought a lot about the ways I was parented, and how it has affected my life in my growing-up years. I was so busy trying to please my parents that I didn’t have any idea who I was when I left home. It has taken years to erase the old tapes, and build new ones. I’m still processing and probably will the rest of my life. I’m more content now than I’ve ever been before.
Poetic! Touching! Heart warming! Writerly!
No snow here, just truthy sunshine!
Thanks Shawna.