Small daily interactions and teachable moments requiring honesty and compassion are important, but so, too, are the raw moments like yesterday's late afternoon, that I hope my children will remember.As we were walking home from a jaunt in the park, we came across a dark form on the ground ahead of us. As we neared, one figured popped up and hurriedly walked away muttering something about having "his own life to live," etc. But three figures remained--one standing, one crouched and one laying heavily on the pavement. I could see it was not a good situation. The young man was semi-conscious, the reek of alcohol and vomit was evident. I asked what happened and was told he had been drinking in celebration of his 18th birthday and passed out, unable to walk and now unable to talk or move. No one had a cell phone amongst the group, including me, but it was clear that this man needed help and needed it quickly or would risk hypothermia and alcohol poisoning.
It is at this point, with a dog and two young children and a looming supper-time that a person might continue on, anticipating that someone else with a phone or no children in tow might be able to step in. This is made especially easy in a big anonymous city like Toronto. There are so many excuses.
But, it was also a moment to model something. With the promise of a speedy return, we took off to a neighbor we knew very close by. Gabriel knew something was not right. He biked closely behind me as I pushed the stroller, running at full speed down the sidewalk and back to the man on the pavement with a neighbor's blankets. Gabriel hopped off his bike and stood nearby over the man as we attended to him, lifting him onto a blanket and covering him with our coats while talking to him and reassuring him that help would be there soon. Gabriel looked very concerned and kept saying, "Man is sick. Man is sick." He knew this was a time to help, a time to be attentive and compassionate.
Fortunately for this young man, only just 18 years old, an ambulance arrived within mere minutes. It was his intoxicated 17 year old friend who had stayed with him, ever so appreciative of our help, when all of his other friends left them for fear of getting into trouble.
I would be naive to believe that Gabriel and Magdalene will never do some pretty stupid things in their lives. We all do. But I was proud of this friend, regardless of his recklessness, for sticking with his buddy and ensuring that he got the help he needed, even if it meant he would be in trouble and have to face the consequences. His friends were cowards. He was the drunk, unlikely hero. But he was a hero none-the-less. And I hope that no matter what, my children will have the compassion to go beyond themselves to help people in need, the honesty to fess up and the integrity to face consequences head on.
How do we teach our children these things? We try to model them and exercise selflessness in big and small ways. We aspire to reward honesty and integrity over "good behaviour." We attempt to find teachable moments in the frustration of our parenting to talk, to inspire, to foster and nurture rather shame and punish--all things I am trying ever so hard to remember in the moment.... All things so easy to forget as we run headlong into the day with floors covered with cheerios, cars strewn with crackers, and tantrums over snowsuits and missing blue spoons.
There are so many wishes we have for our children, so many values we hope to instill. And such an important role we play in the lives of our children, isn't it?
