Here is what it looks like when you are almost 1 1/2 and you love to ride on PaPa's mower. He tried so hard to get me to take him outside so he could ride with PaPa.
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Poverty
As a child I lived in poverty with my mother. At the time I had no idea what poverty was. I knew there were things that we didn't have. Very basic things like food and clean clothes. Being poor was not something I had a choice about. There were a few kids that my siblings and I were friends with. There were other kids that were not kind at all. As an adult I can look back now and understand that this prejudice came from the parents. Children SPEW the crap we adults teach them.
I knew then that I was not clean. By the time I was in elementary school my mother was too ill to take care of herself. There was no parenting to get us in the tub, to wash clothes or to feed us. Our house was filthy. Unlivable with all the filth. The walls and floors seemed to move because of the roaches. There was a washing machine in our kitchen but I don't know if it worked. I don't ever remember trying to use it myself. I remember the times I would put effort in to washing my clothes by hand. I would use the bathroom sink and bar of bath soap. I would hang the wet clothes on the towel rack and couldn't understand why they were still wet the next day. The skill of wringing out the extra water was not one I had acquired yet.
I was reminded of all of this while shopping a few weeks back. A family came down the bread isle that I was on. There was a man & woman with three young children. They were all filthy. The oldest girl was about 6 or 7 years of age. Her hair was matted, she had dirt on her face and her clothes were very dirty. I am not talking about the kind of dirty that kids end up at the end of the day. I talking about the kind of dirt that has been on clothes and bodies for many, many days. Immediately upon seeing her I was reminded of my childhood. I know that is what I had to look like most of the time. The look on that child's face haunted me for days. I have no idea about her family's situation, but she looked so sad. I found myself smiling at her. Wishing that she would be able to feel the kindness that I felt towards her. A silly thought I am sure, but I haven't forgotten the snooty looks I used to get.
Now I wonder.
How many adults were aware of our situation when we were children. Did any of them wonder if we needed help? I know when I looked at the family on the bread isle I knew they were poor. How do you help without offending? All I did was smile at the child. They were gone before I could get beyond the reminder of my past.
Be careful how you speak of people in front of your children. They learn from watching and listening to us. They will copy their behavior from what they see us do. If the see us cheat, they will be cheaters. If the see us show compassion they will learn to look on others with compassion. If they hear us spew our judgments they will spew those same ugly words. Children have no choice of their family situation. Not the poor ones or the ones more fortunate.
I knew then that I was not clean. By the time I was in elementary school my mother was too ill to take care of herself. There was no parenting to get us in the tub, to wash clothes or to feed us. Our house was filthy. Unlivable with all the filth. The walls and floors seemed to move because of the roaches. There was a washing machine in our kitchen but I don't know if it worked. I don't ever remember trying to use it myself. I remember the times I would put effort in to washing my clothes by hand. I would use the bathroom sink and bar of bath soap. I would hang the wet clothes on the towel rack and couldn't understand why they were still wet the next day. The skill of wringing out the extra water was not one I had acquired yet.
I was reminded of all of this while shopping a few weeks back. A family came down the bread isle that I was on. There was a man & woman with three young children. They were all filthy. The oldest girl was about 6 or 7 years of age. Her hair was matted, she had dirt on her face and her clothes were very dirty. I am not talking about the kind of dirty that kids end up at the end of the day. I talking about the kind of dirt that has been on clothes and bodies for many, many days. Immediately upon seeing her I was reminded of my childhood. I know that is what I had to look like most of the time. The look on that child's face haunted me for days. I have no idea about her family's situation, but she looked so sad. I found myself smiling at her. Wishing that she would be able to feel the kindness that I felt towards her. A silly thought I am sure, but I haven't forgotten the snooty looks I used to get.
Now I wonder.
How many adults were aware of our situation when we were children. Did any of them wonder if we needed help? I know when I looked at the family on the bread isle I knew they were poor. How do you help without offending? All I did was smile at the child. They were gone before I could get beyond the reminder of my past.
Be careful how you speak of people in front of your children. They learn from watching and listening to us. They will copy their behavior from what they see us do. If the see us cheat, they will be cheaters. If the see us show compassion they will learn to look on others with compassion. If they hear us spew our judgments they will spew those same ugly words. Children have no choice of their family situation. Not the poor ones or the ones more fortunate.
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