Things My Mother Taught Me

We learn much from our mothers.
Often, we find that we end up sounding just like them.
That may be a problem for some.
For others, it is a welcome blessing to our heart.

I have taught my own children many things I learned from my own mother.
Sometimes, I may have pointed it out.
Other times, only I knew that it was a lesson that I was once taught.
My mother was often able to put things in one sentence, which encapsulated the truth.

When teaching me about friendship, my mother always focused on being a friend first.
I still remember the poem she said to me all the time.

I went out to seek a friend but couldn’t find one there.
Then I went out to be a friend and friends were everywhere.

That little poem has helped me so many times in my life.
It is short and right to the point.
Because it is lyrical, it is easily remembered.
I am grateful to her for that simple truth.

She considered outlook very important.
There was a poem for that as well.

Two men were behind prison bars; they both looked out.
One saw mud, the other stars.

Decades later, I still hold these big truths that came in little packages close to my heart.
Friendship and outlook.
I am the better woman for having been taught them.
I have recited both poems in my head many times throughout my life.

My mother also had a litmus test that she freely discussed.
It was her way of knowing the sincerity of another person.
I have never forgotten her simple way of discerning.
It was almost too simple to be true.

If children and dogs like you, you are a nice person.

I laughed when she first said that to me.
However, she was not joking.
She explained that you cannot hide who you really are in front of children or dogs.
Each seems to have an intuition about a person, no matter how they appear to everyone else.

The other day, it happened.
I was in a long line trying to return something.
There were at least ten people behind me and three in front of me.
A little girl and her mother were being helped at the counter.

There was a baby in a stroller that the little girl seemed determined to protect.
She turned back to all of us in line.
By now, two other people were being helped.
There was just one woman ahead of me.

The little girl and I met eyes.
I smiled at her.
I tilted my head so that she could not see me for just a minute.
Then I moved it back again so she could see my face.

She smiled.
She laughed.
It was a toddler version of peek-a-boo.
It was keeping her entertained while her mother returned her items.

After playing this for a few minutes, the woman in front of me turned around.
She wouldn’t smile at me! She said emphatically.
I was so busy playing with the little girl, I never noticed that this woman was watching us.
As if to prove her point, the woman smiled and the little girl hid behind her mother’s leg.

There was nothing I could say.
There was no rhyme or reason to the little girl’s preference.
Perhaps the woman’s smile seemed forced.
Perhaps my smile told the little girl that I really think children are wonderful.

I will never know, nor do I need to know.
My mother’s litmus test came to mind.
If children and dogs like you, you are a nice person.
At least this little girl seemed to think so.

I have raised five children.
Children are in my home with their mothers all the time.
Children come here on a Bible study day and play with my children’s toys.
I am familiar with toys, and books, and games that give us common ground.

All of that is superfluous.
What really matters is that I believe with all my heart that children are a gift from God.
Every child is an image bearer of the God who created them.
Every child deserves our time, our attention, and mostly our love.

What does that look like when children are waiting in a long return line?
What does that look like when you see children at church?
What does that look like when a child comes to your door selling cookies?
What does that look like when children come into your home?

The specifics of what that looks like differs for each of us.
The reason it matters; however, remains the same.
The child is made in the image of God.
The child is special to Him and should be special to us as well.

Perhaps that is the reason the woman in front of me was perplexed.
I do not know her heart or anything about her.
I do not know why the child hid behind her mother’s leg when the woman smiled.
I do know that to me, for those few minutes, that little Image bearer mattered.

As I was pondering this, I saw this truth in action.
A precious man in my church is in a wheelchair.
He is filled with the joy of the Lord.
He is well loved; he does much for the kingdom of God and for the disabled in particular.

As he wheeled himself up the side aisle to get ready for church, I saw it happen.
A little girl in our church skipped across an aisle right towards him.
She hopped up on the back of his wheelchair.
He pushed a button and they were off.

His wife was not far behind.
He has done this before.
I have seen pictures of him pulling wagons of children behind his wheelchair.
He loves these children and they love him.

Image bearers.
We all are made in God’s image.
What if we remembered that as we went about our day?
What if we treated everyone with the dignity they deserve simply because God made them?

Perhaps that is what my mother meant.
Friendship and outlook are vitally important.
Even more important is the realization that each person is God’s image bearer.
That is what the little girl saw in my smile.

Thanks, Mom!