"It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men." - Frederick Douglass

Children are our most precious commodity because the future of our world rests in their hands. So why don't we value them so they learn to value themselves? Why don't we listen when they talk so they feel they have something to say? Why don't we instill within our child that sense of importance instead of waiting for them to learn it on their own? There is no rule book for raising children, but they thrive on love, support and creativity. They watch what we do and follow our example.

Building a strong child does not happen on its own. Because it happened to you when you were a child doesn't make it right. Because it was good for someone else doesn't mean it is good for you or your child. When it comes to raising children, there is no "one size fits all." Each child is different, with different temperaments, different abilities, and different learning styles but all children are brilliant at something. It is the job of parents to find that brilliance, nurture it, protect it, and allow it to shine.

Children mostly model the behavior of adults. That's how they know right from wrong and how they determine what's good or bad. If you tell them they're fantastic but treat them like dirt, which do you think they'll believe? 

Children need positive influences, but children also need to face reality, and negative outcomes are part of that reality. When parents offer too much praise while their children are young, constantly complimenting meaningless things or when parents fail to acknowledge and discuss negative experiences, children miss the opportunity to face adversity, build inner strength and become emotionally resilient. 

Life consists of positive and negative experiences, and children need to learn how to accept negative comments or responses. It takes several positive comments to overcome one negative comment, so criticism works best when balanced by positive comments.

As the popular poem goes, "Children Learn what they live." No one said raising a child would be easy, but when we contract to bring children into this world, it's a responsibility that we accept and a job that gets easier if we practice the behavior we want them to learn. Parents are not perfect nor do they have to be, but they need to be conscious and conscientious when raising future leaders of this world. It is easier to build a strong child than to repair a broken one.

CHILDREN LEARN WHAT THEY LIVE

Dorothy Law Nolte

If a child lives with criticism,
he learns to condemn.

If a child lives with hostility,
he learns to fight.

If a child lives with fear,
he learns to be apprehensive.

If a child lives with pity,
he learns to feel sorry for himself.

If a child lives with ridicule,
he learns to be shy.

If a child lives with jealousy,
he learns what envy is.

If a child lives with shame,
he learns to feel guilty.

If a child lives with encouragement,
he learns to be confident.

If a child lives with tolerance,
he learns to be patient.

If a child lives with praise,
he learns to be appreciative.

If a child lives with acceptance,
he learns to love.

If a child lives with approval,
he learns to like himself.

If a child lives with recognition,
he learns that it is good to have a goal.

If a child lives with sharing,
he learns about generosity.

If a child lives with honesty and fairness,
he learns what truth and justice are.

If a child lives with security,
he learns to have faith in himself and in those about him.

If a child lives with friendliness,
he learns that the world is a nice place in which to live.

If you live with serenity,
your child will live with peace of mind.

With what is your child living?

Source: Canfield, J. & Wells, H. C. (1976). 100 ways to enhance self-concept in the classroom: A handbook for teachers and patents. Boston: Allyn & Bacon.

October: My favorite month of the year, but there's a hurricane headed toward Bermuda.

Fall or autumn is my favorite season, and October is one of my favorite months of the year. October is also one of the most beautiful months of the year, but it comes during hurricane season, and when Mother Nature has her say, she always has the last word. To everything, there is a season.

When I was a child, I spent some time in a place called, "Tornado Alley." During tornado season, tornado warnings were announced on a continual basis.  Watching the news, everyone was terrified. I remember sitting on the sofa in the darkness with my brothers and sisters, waiting for the storm to pass and secretly wishing it would  pass just close enough for us to watch it touch down, but far enough away for it to cause no damage to our neighborhood or to any other neighborhood, for that matter. 

We lived in a nine-room house with connecting rooms, and there was a special place to hide--a long hallway situated in the middle of the house. We could close the bathroom, dining room, and two bedroom doors and nothing could touch us. The entire house was built around the hallway. Now that I look back on it, a safe shelter must have been it's purpose from the very beginning, though we were never told that. When it rained and thundered terribly hard and bolts of lightening streaked across the sky, we huddled together underneath someone's bed, but that was before we were shown the perfect place to hide. 

Listening to the weather report seemed far more terrifying than looking out the window, but since we were prohibited from being anywhere near a window, we huddled together with one or both parents quietly watching TV until the sirens began screaming overhead. It was frightening and exciting, all at the same time. Once the sirens stopped and after getting permission, we rushed outside to see the blackened sky. The weather was often balmy and breezy, and the sky took on a reddish hue. It was simply beautiful. If there had been rain, we made sure to splash into every puddle. Sometimes we sat on the curb and watched our neighbors playing up and down the street. 

Each night after a tornado, we were told to get on our knees and pray that no lives had been lost during the storm and to give thanks that the tornado had spared our home, our neighborhood, and finally, our lives. It's not that we were insignificant. It's just that we were not the only ones in danger. We always remembered, it was not only about us. That's what I learned from tornadoes.  

There's a tornado headed toward Bermuda in the coming days, and although it's not headed for the U.S.A., I am reminded that there are people, neighborhoods, and children hiding in safe places so many miles away, and if I pray for their safety, not only will they be safe, we will be safe here in the U.S.A.    (Although I like believing this, I know that sometimes my prayer will be answered and sometimes not because
to everything, there is a season.)
 

I understand and accept Christian beliefs, but I especially understand and accept "karma."

I have always been able to make my life happier than it might have been.  As a child, I remember the chaos and unhappiness we sometimes suffered at the hands of an abusive father who loved us more than anything but followed the teachings of his father, who followed the teachings of his father who had followed the teachings of his father, so generation after generation, the rule of thumb was: "Spare the rod and spoil the child." We were never spoiled.

My day began with a schedule of chores and tasks to be completed by the end of the day, and if they were not completed, we knew what to expect. Except for my two older siblings and the two youngest, my mother's ten children were spaced about eighteen months apart, and until I was ten, we had two parents. After the divorce and once I was twelve, my job was to make sure the chores and cooking were done before my mother returned home from work.

In order to inspire my younger siblings, I learned to create stories from my dreams and tell nursery rhymes improvised so that they included each of my siblings. Sometimes, we played games inside the house and sometimes outside in the yard, but we created magic and made a way out of no way, creating paper dolls, building go-carts from skates and planks of wood, and completing chalk drawings on a very long, concrete driveway.

My life was a challenge, but not as challenging as my mother's life nor my older sister's life. But compared to other church members, it seemed as though my mother was mistreated and neglected by the Creator. So by age eleven,  I had stopped believing in God because no one could answer the question: Why does my pretty mother have to suffer and struggle so much? Without fail, the answer was always, "It's the Lord's will." Each of their responses was followed this question (which I never expressed): What kind of "Lord" would allow such misfortune? Clearly, I did not understand many things, especially the fact that our mother felt "blessed" to have all ten of us.

Despite the fact that my mother believed in her religion and was able to face and overcome her challenges, I sought to understand.  Finally, I heard about karma, translated into the Christian concept, "You reap what you sow." I continued to attend our Christian church, but by age thirteen, I understood karma to mean: "What goes around comes around."  I understood and accepted Christian beliefs, but I especially understood and accepted "karma." The poem which follows explains how karma works, but it does not explain that with karma, those ripples go on and on until they come back to you!

PEBBLE IN THE WATER

Drop a pebble in the water,
just a splash, and it's gone;
But there's half a hundred ripples
circling on and on and on,

Spreading, spreading from the center,
flowing on out to sea.
And there is no way of telling
where the end is going to be.

Drop a pebble in the water;
in a minute you will forget,
But there's little waves a-flowing
and there's ripples circling yet,

And those little waves a-flowing
to a great big wave have grown;
You've disturbed a mighty river
just by dropping in a stone.

Drop an unkind or careless word:
in a minute it is gone;
But there's half a hundred ripples
circling on and on and on,

They keep spreading, spreading,
spreading from the center as they go,
And there is no way to stop them,
once you've started the flow.

Drop an unkind or careless word:
in a minute you forget;
But there's little waves a-flowing,
and there's ripples circling yet.

And perhaps in some sad heart
a mighty wave of tears you've stirred,
And disturbed a life that was happy
where you dropped that unkind word.

Drop a word of cheer and kindness:
just a flash and it is gone;
But there is half a hundred ripples
circling on and on and on,

Bearing hope and joy and comfort
on each splashing, dashing wave,
Till you wouldn't believe the volume
of the one kind word you gave.

Drop a word of cheer and kindness:
in a minute you will forget;
But there's gladness still a-swelling,
and there's joy circling yet.

And you've rolled a wave of comfort
whose sweet music can be heard,
Over miles and miles of water
just by dropping one kind word.

Author Unknown