Maximizing Minimums

In yesterday’s blog we talked about taking advantage of teachable moments that pop up in everyday life, things like being given too much change at a store or not being charged for everything we bought. Rather than look at these moments as irritating inconveniences, wisdom tells us to view them as golden opportunities.

Mary and I, now in our late sixties, look back at our active mothering years and see lots of things we’d do differently if we could begin again. One of them would be to maximize the minimums, in other words, use small moments to teach big concepts.

This would include the obvious, like the extra change situation, but also less apparent chances to teach youngsters. Mary said, “One thing I wish is that I’d involved my kids more in giving to others.”

I reminded her she’d done a great deal, taking meals to people in crisis, driving Meals on Wheels for a hospital, tutoring children after school. She stopped me, though, and said, “But I didn’t usually let my kids help me. It was much easier to get it done without them.” We agreed these were still good deeds, but both of us had forfeited teachable moments.

As we talked, though, we did come up with two times when we did teach our young children through everyday circumstances:

Hot chocolate

  1. Mary and her carload of children drove the same route to school for years, always passing an elderly crossing guard who daily helped young children cross the street (to a different school than Mary’s children attended). She remarked to her kids about this man’s faithfulness to his task, rain or shine, and wondered how they might show admiration for this stranger. Her children decided, during a very cold winter, to bring a thermos of hot chocolate to him and a thank you for a job well done. Whether or not the old man appreciated it, Mary’s children learned to consider the effort of someone else and express thanks for it.

Leopard-lined gloves2. In driving my own carpool daily (to a different school), the children and I always passed an older woman bowed over with extreme osteoporosis. Gripping a walker, she inched along a particular stretch of sidewalk next to a middle-aged man, no doubt her son, painfully exercising at the same time every day. We looked for her as we came down the street, and my children wondered what we might do to encourage her. They decided to buy her a pair of warm winter gloves and deliver them with an original poem of admiration. On the day we stopped our van for them to jump out and approach her, I knew we’d accomplished something worthwhile in my kids.

Surely countless other examples could serve as ways to maximize teachable moments for children, whether our own or someone else’s. Jesus instructed us to be of practical help to others, not just for their benefit but for ours, too. He knew that would make everybody happy.

“How joyful are those who fear the Lord…. They share freely and give generously to those in need.” (Psalm 112:1,9)

Count the Cost

Although I don’t usually scrutinize my grocery receipts, this weekend after arriving home with my bags I did, because the total seemed so low. That’s when I realized the check-out girl hadn’t charged me for a small rose plant I’d bought as a Mother’s Day gift.

Sweetheart roses

Since I was on a tight schedule and the store was a 30 minute round trip from home, I didn’t have time to go back. And if I had, two things might have happened, making me wish I hadn’t. (1) The cashier might have gotten in trouble, and (2) the store manager might have said, “Don’t worry about it.”

So I did nothing.

The next day I explained it all to Mary, complaining about the inconvenience of having to go back to the store since I knew the right thing to do was pay what I owed. “You know,” she said, “it’s funny how that seems inconvenient now, but when I had kids living at home, I used to literally pray for opportunities just like that one. It was the perfect chance to teach something important without saying a word.”

She was right. Children watch us closely, “catching” the values we live out in front of them. Maybe, I thought, if I corrected the payment problem of the rose plant, someone I didn’t even know might “be watching.”

The day after my rose non-purchase, I had another list of errands, this one in the opposite direction. Last on my list was to head back to the rose store to settle up. When I finally got there, I walked over to the display of rose plants from which I’d “bought” the first one the day before. Pondering the best way to make things right, I decided to buy a second plant and let the checker scan it twice rather than go through the manager, causing trouble for the young girl who’d forgotten to charge me.

That girl wasn’t on duty, so I chose a young boy cashier and briefly explained that I wanted to pay for the plant I’d gotten for free the day before. “So,” I said, “why don’t you just scan this one twice,” I said, handing him the plant.

“Really?” he said, looking me in the eye. He picked up the plant, waved it over the scanner, then held it in the air, ready to do it again. Looking back at me he said, “You sure?”

“Yes,” I said,  “because if I didn’t do it, I wouldn’t sleep tonight, you know?”

“I suppose,” he said, swiping it a second time.

“And if I let myself get away with it this time, it would be easy to do it again some other time.”

“Maybe,” he said, slowly bagging the plant, not entirely convinced.

But as I turned to go, he said, “Hey… I appreciate what you just did.”

When I got in the car, I looked at the receipt. Amazingly, this one seemed low, too. Actually it was. Between yesterday and today, the roses had been marked down to half price, so I ended up with two…. for the price of one.

Sweetheart roses

Sweetheart roses“Better to be poor and honest than to be dishonest and a fool.” (Proverbs 19:1)

But first….

Sitting soloYesterday was a day of firsts for 6 month old Emerald: first baby food, first tooth, first trip to the beach, first sitting-up-solo.

That first year for all of us was a doozy! Most of us tripled our birth weight, mastered our first words, learned to sit, crawl, stand, and walk, figured out who was family and who wasn’t, and could mimic animal sounds. Scientists say if we continued at that phenomenal rate of development, we’d eventually be as tall as a skyscraper and would possess all the knowledge of the world.

During that first year babies are coping with “firsts” virtually every day, and truth be told, firsts don’t end after that. They may not come in such rapid-fire succession, but they do keep coming. Some people love that aspect of life, embracing unpredictability and thriving on change. Others would rather learn a niche and stay there. But babies? They don’t have a choice.

We adults might think we do have a choice about how and when we encounter our firsts, and in certain respects that’s true. We can control whether or not we try sky diving or deep sea diving, but oftentimes we don’t have a choice about our firsts. Accidents fit into that category, as well as disease and death.

Whatever our firsts are and whenever they come, they’re always accompanied by a need to adjust. That might involve making concessions and sometimes having to lower our standards in order to cope. But when we have to, we do. If we refuse, we can find ourselves sliding into dysfunction.

Sometimes I think of the multitude of firsts Jesus faced when he chose to become human. I wish I could have listened in on the discussion between the three members of the Trinity as they pondered the many dramatic firsts the Son would have to experience. That he willingly subjected himself to them anyway, knowing how difficult they would be, is proof of his love for us. It was the only way to make sure we could be citizens of heaven, and for a reason unknown to us, he wanted that with a passion.

Jesus experienced his firsts moving from heaven to earth, a definite step down. The rest of us will move in the other direction, from earth to heaven, a change that will bring one magnificent first after another. Most likely there won’t be an end to those, and that’s a glorious prospect.

Eating

Yesterday little Emerald had a day marked by happy firsts, and the rest of us could probably name a few we had, too. But positive or negative, welcome or unwelcome, we can simply choose to view all of our firsts as practice for an eternal life that will be chock full of them. But how thrilling to know that those firsts will all be good ones!

“How abundant are the good things that you have stored up for those who fear you.” (Psalm 31:19)