Lessons

     Something really cool happened tonight; I watched my daughter grow as a human being.

     My mother called earlier this afternoon to see if I might like to meet Haven and her for dinner.  We planned on meeting at 6PM.  They did not show up until 6:35PM.  Anyone who knows me knows that I am early to everything.  It's a problem and I am working on it.  However, in the 45 minutes I waited for them to show up, I checked Facebook, texted friends, and even talked myself into thinking the waiter was cute.  I waited so long that I became annoyed.  I called my mother at 6:20PM and she assured me that she would make it to the restaurant in three to four minutes.  Time management has never been her thing.

     However, as I sat there drinking a Mexican Martini and nibbling on jalapeno stuffed olives, a woman was being seated at the table across from where I was sitting.  She was alone, and she was severely handicapped.  I watched her struggle to sit down, and I watched her take her neck brace off.  She was barely able to lift her head off of her chest with the neck brace on, but it was significantly worse when she took it off.

      I did not feel bad for her.  I was impressed with how independent she was.  This woman could not pick her head up off her chest, and she walked in the place BY HERSELF.  It was pretty inspiring.

     Shortly there after, my mother and daughter arrived.  They were seated and given drinks.  I asked them about their shopping excursion and we made small talk.  It was then my mother zeroed in on this woman.

     My mother has an affinity for the disabled.  Her mother was a severe arthritic and instilled tolerance and acceptance in me and my two sisters.  While most parents teach their children that you should open doors for women, my parents taught us to give up our seats to the elderly, open doors for everyone, and to never look at anyone as a victim.

     My mother wondered aloud if the woman was meeting someone.  I told her no, that I had seen her order, and assumed that she was dining by herself.  My Mom said, "Haven, you should ask her to join us."   Haven looked scared and said, "No, you do it."  My mother said, "No Haven, I think you should."  I watched this for awhile and decided to take matters into my own hands.

     I quietly backed out of my chair, stood up, walked to this woman's table, bent down and asked her if she might like to have dinner with me and my family.  The woman said, "Oh, I don't mind eating my myself." and I said, "And I don't mind if you eat by yourself, but my table is right behind you, and we would love for you to join us."  And you know what?  She did. 

     Here's why I didn't wait for Haven to get up and ask her:  How is she supposed to know what to do if I don't model  it for her first?  So many parents have these expectations of their children, but don't take the time to explain or show them what to do in the first place.  I haven't always been the best modeler, but how can I expect Haven to do it if I won't do it myself?  This was not the first time I have ever asked a stranger to eat dinner with me, but it is the first time I have done it in front of her. 
  
     Here's how I saw my daughter grow:  Even though she did not get up and ask this woman to have dinner with us, she engaged in conversation with her, was not afraid to look her in the eye, and really enjoyed speaking with her.  Haven told her about her aspirations for track and for college, and did so with out prodding from me.  I was very proud.

     It reminded me of a time when Haven was eight years old.  As she sat in our house surrounded by all of her things, (because lets face it, once you have kids, it ain't your house anymore) she told me that she didn't have anything.  We went back and forth with, "Sure you do," and, "Play with this," until I became so angry that I snapped.  I snapped in a good way, though.

     Instead of spanking her, and telling her what a spoiled brat I thought she was, I grabbed eight black trash bags, threw everything she owned into them, and threw them outside for some fortunate soul to have a free-for-all.  Then I told her to get her little ass in the car and I started driving.  I drove Haven deep into the East side of town, a place where children would be grateful for 1/32 of what she has.  I told her to take a good look around.  I told her, "That is what not having anything is."   Haven slept in a bare room for over a month because I wanted that lesson burned into her brain.  Do you know to this day, she has yet to complain about what she has or what she doesn't?  Was there probably a better way to teach her this lesson?  Yes.  But, I find value in teaching lessons without a plan.  It works out better that way, and so are lessons about lifelong, deep rooted values.

     I think it's such horse shit when people say how they want to be better people.  How hard is it to be better when you can just do it?  I think several children were happy to come across trash bags full  of toys, and I think this lady was happy to have some company.  I didn't do these things for notoriety or to make myself feel better.  I did them to help my daughter grow.  There is a lesson in every experience.  After all, it is my job to teach her to be the best she can be.

     And, Haven is well on her way.  My daughter, mother and I walked our new friend out to her car, and Haven opened the door for her.  Before our new friend got into her car, Haven hugged her.  It was a hug with intention behind it, and it was sincere. 

     Will Haven remember what happened this evening?  I believe she will.  I believe she will show her own daughter the same act of kindness, and I think she will do it in a way that will promote dignity.