Study in Human Nature

I don't know why this continues to surprise me, because I've seen it so many times before, but I'm always shocked when it happens.

This afternoon a four-year-old boy had a seizure which put him into cardiac arrest.  As the helicopter was in flight to take the child to the hospital, his heart sick mother turned to Google+ on social media and asked for prayers.  She told people that didn't believe in a higher power to please just scroll on down.  She is not of my faith, but I know that God answers ALL prayers.  As a mother, I felt her pain.  I instantly bowed my head and said a prayer for this child, his mother, and all those who loved them.

On completion of my prayer, I scrolled through the comments.  In just an hour from her original post, there were 283 comments, 200 people had +1 (or liked) the post, and 67 people had forwarded the post for their followers to read and pray.  As I write this post, people are continuing to comment and pray.  Prayers came from many faiths--Christian and Muslim.  Some who don't believe in a higher power, left kind thoughts for a speedy recovery.

The reason for my shock:  There were several comments left for this grieving mother expressing the sentiment that instead of praying to some imaginary man in the sky, she should be hoping the doctors had learned their skills appropriately.  I am shocked at the heartlessness of those comments--especially since this mother had specifically asked that those who were not believers just scroll past.  Those on social media who insist on kicking a man who is down are just cruel people.  There is a time and a place for religious debate.  This was not the time, nor the place.  This was a grieving mother in a plea for support.  The longer I live in "civilization," the more I wonder how "civilized" we really are becoming.  All I can do is note the numbers of people who left kind messages and hope that by the end of the day, those messages far outweigh the unkind words.

Become As Little Children

This is a love story of sorts.  It started out as a Primary lesson.  (Primary is the equivalent of Sunday School for my readers who are not of the Mormon faith.)  I teach the 3-year-old (Sunbeam) class.  It is now September, so most (if not all) of them have turned into 4-year-olds.  The lesson I was teaching from the manual today was "I Can Love Others."  The stated purpose of the lesson is:  "To encourage each child to express love for others through kind words and deeds."

The lesson manual asked that I teach the story of the Good Samaritan, as well as teaching them about Jesus having the children come unto Him when they were being turned away.  I was also supposed to remind them about Jesus healing the blind man, and to teach them that Jesus' whole life was about being kind to others.  This lesson was a great follow-up lesson to last week's "I Can Be A Friend" lesson.

For some reason my class was smaller than usual.  I only had two children:  Caleb and Jocelyn.  I began my lesson by showing this picture of my granddaughters, Haley and Kaitlyn.

Haley (Left) and Kaitlyn (Right)

The conversation went something like this:

Me:  This is a picture of two little girls.  Do you think you could be friends with these little girls?

Caleb and Jocelyn:  Yes.

Me:  They look like nice little girls.  Do you think you could be nice to them?

Caleb and Jocelyn:  Yes.

Then I showed this picture of Haley as a baby.

Haley -- Notice the Smile -- Definitely NOT Gas

Me:  This is another picture of a little girl.  Do you think you could be friends with her?

Caleb and Jocelyn:  Yes.

Me:  That's good.  I'm so glad.  Is there something a little different about this little girl?

Caleb:  She's a baby.

Me:  That's right.  Is there anything else that you can see that's different?

Caleb:  Her nose is different.

Me:  That's right.  Her nose and her mouth are a little different.

I then placed Haley's baby picture over Kaitlyn's picture so that Haley's baby picture was next to the current picture of Haley.

Me:  I'm so glad that you could be friends with this baby, because she is my granddaughter.  And this other picture is Haley as she looks today at 5 years old.

I explained that Haley had been to the hospital a couple of times, and that the doctors had fixed her nose and mouth.  I then explained that while Haley looks more like we do now, that she still has some problems talking, and that her voice sounds a little different.  I explained that she is going to go into the hospital very soon so that the doctors can help her with that problem.  I asked the children if they could be friends with someone who talked differently, and they agreed they could do that.

We then discussed people in wheelchairs, and people who were blind or deaf.  The children agreed that they could be friends with and love those people too.

My assistant, Sister Moore, is African-American.  I took a breath and began what could have been a tricky situation.

Me:  What about someone who has skin that is a different color from yours?  Sister Moore's skin is different from yours.

At this point, Caleb and Jocelyn almost simultaneously jumped out of their chairs, threw their little arms around Sister Moore, and said, "I love you, Sister Moore."  Sister Moore was obviously quite touched, and I have to admit to a little catch in my throat, as well.

Sister Moore:  I love you too!!!

I taught this lesson on the anniversary of 9/11/01, so I had to take this one step further.  I asked if the children had heard about 9/11, and they said no.  I explained that some bad people who lived in a different country flew planes into two big buildings in New York City, and it had hurt some people.  (I avoided the word "kill" because they are very young.)  They said they had heard about that.  I asked them if they could love someone who lived in a different country, and they said they could.  I asked them if they could forgive the bad men who had done this, and they said they could.  I explained that it is important to love everyone and reminded them of a previous lesson that we need to forgive.  They said they could do that.

I then went into the meat of the lesson about the Good Samaritan, and the rest as outlined in the manual.

Since the stated purpose of the lesson was:  "To encourage each child to express love for others through kind words and deeds," I couldn't help but wonder who had taught this lesson--me, or the children.  When they threw their little arms around Sister Moore and told her that they loved her, I think I could have ended the lesson right there.

I was reminded of the Book of Mormon scripture, Mosiah 3:19:

"For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father."  (Emphasis added.)

It is my prayer that we all try to be more like little Caleb and Jocelyn.  The world would be a much better place.



He Took Pity On Me

I was 8 1/2 months pregnant with my first child.  I was miserable.  My feet were swollen twice their normal size.  My back hurt so bad I thought I was going to die.  I was HUGE, and I felt like a baby elephant.  I was determined to work as long as possible because we needed the money, and because I didn't want to sit in the non-air conditioned home we had just purchased and stare at the many projects I needed to do, but was too pregnant to begin.

At the time, I was working in a 4-attorney office, and George Littlefield was the senior partner.  One day during a quiet lunch hour, I was so exhausted that I decided to take a 10-minute nap.  There was a couch in George's private office, and I curled up and went to sleep.  Unfortunately, I slept hard and woke up an hour and a half later.  To my horror, I discovered that George had tiptoed into his office, grabbed the project he was working on, and taken it to the conference room to work so that I could continue to sleep.  Obviously, I thanked him profusely through my embarrassment, but I was (and still am) quite touched that he took pity on me and was so compassionate.

We never know how long our little acts of kindness will be remembered.  I'm sure that in the hot summer of 1977, George wasn't thinking that I would still be touched in 2011, long after his death, from that little act of kindness.  As I go through this week, I'm going to think about George each day.  I'm going to seek to do little acts of kindness each day.