Words Matter
Saturday, October 6, 2012 at 9:03PM This afternoon Christian painted an abstract painting on a heavy piece of paper. Some time this evening, Michaela made a comment (that I didn't hear) which hurt his feelings. He got up from the table in the back of our house (we use it for school) and put his painting in the trash can. Michaela stood by the table, looking shocked, and asked,"Christian, what did you just throw away?"
I asked him the same question. He said it was his painting. She went over to look in the trash can and sure enough, there it was. I looked at her with one of those "mom looks" but I didn't say anything. I could tell that she felt bad about what she had said. She didn't apologize though. She said,"I was just kidding," in a way that seemed to mean,"I wish you hadn't thrown your picture away," but the damage had been done.
I wish these kids could deep-down get that our words matter. Spoken words can be invisible daggers wounding, bombshells tearing down. Or they can be a balm for the soul, a healing salve that soothes and mends.
Just before bedtime, Christian was asking if there was something he could wear that was like his robe. I gave his robe away a while back because he never wore it and I think it was getting too small anyway. Michaela had her robe on and offered it to him. He said,"No...you'll be cold!" She told him she had a Snuggie, and it was fine if he wore her robe. He put it on. It made me smile, and not just because the robe is bright pink with flowers on it.
This exchange was so different than the one earlier. In hours, they can run the spectrum on how they treat one another. From meanness to kindness. And likely back again. I suppose that is the story of my life too. How often do I snap at them, or Mike, cutting them down with the sharp words that fly out of my mouth? Too often, I'm afraid. I long to be gentle and slow to speak in anger...the opposite is true more than I like for it to be. Hopefully there are the times when I am kind, or patient, or encouraging rather than nasty. Amazingly enough, they always want a hug and a kiss right before or after I turn out their lights. This miracle at the end of each day helps me to take a deep breath, and hope for tomorrow. Hope for more kindness. Less meanness...for each of us.
Our words matter. I pray that I can help the kids make them matter for good. That starts with me making them matter for good.
Reader Comments (2)
Siblings are such a great lesson in learning how to get along with the rest of the world. We try stuff out on people who HAVE to love us and learn what works and what doesn't.
Oh, yes. I can commiserate with you over this one. Little sister has taken to bawling at the drop of an unkind word from big brother and it breaks his heart and mine. I love how you spoke of (worded) the goodnight hug/kiss being a sign of hope for a sweeter bounty of words tomorrow. Such a great post!