Lessons I Hate to Learn
Today was a little bit sad for me as a mother.
I saw Keith interacting with other kids and saw myself in him. My weakness. It hurt to watch.
He saw a Tonka dump truck and ran over to play with it. It was all alone. Abandoned by the other little kids. With delight he picked it up, and carried it a few feet away to play with. Immediately a little boy yelled (and I mean really yelled) at him. The look on Keith's face crumpled me.
First we saw surprise, then hurt, then shame. He ran and put the truck back where he found it, and ran over to me, his face slowly changing into such sadness. I saw the tears slowly come to his eyes and spill over as his lip quivered and he reached for me.
The rest of the time we were there he wouldn't go over by the other kids. He clung to me, burying his face into my neck, wetting it with his lack of understanding and frustration. He hadn't done anything wrong, yet he had gotten in trouble.
I saw my tender feelings in him. I knew exactly what he felt in that moment. He was scared, and so sad that someone was so upset with him for something he didn't do wrong. I know he carried that hurt with himself for a good part of the day. I could see it in his eyes.
Seeing my child hurt was so hard for me. I know it is a part of learning. I know it is something he has to go through, but how I wished I could have spared him that experience. How I wish I could have sheltered him from that. And then I think of my Heavenly Father. I see that is how he must feel when we do something foolish or when we are hurt. He knows that we have to go through experiences to grow, but it probably hurts him to see us hurting like that, and he wishes there were another way for us to learn. A way where we wouldn't have to hurt. I am grateful for my learning experience and hope I have very few more because I hope Keith doesn't have any more.
Yes, a sad yet glorious day in learning the lessons of motherhood.