Читать книгу Their Name Is Today - Johann Arnold Christoph - Страница 7

Chapter 1

The World Needs Children

If we do not keep on speaking terms with children, we become merely machines for eating and earning money.

John Updike

The cry of a newborn baby catches at the heart. It says, “Love me. Help me. Protect me.” As adults, we consider ourselves the helpers and protectors. But the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that we need children more than they need us.

Experts inform us that overpopulation is destroying the earth. I disagree: greed and selfishness are ruining the planet, not children. They are born givers, not takers. They are also born teachers, if we are wise enough to hear the truths they bring. In the midst of our complex adult lives, we must make time to take in the lessons that only children can teach.

Children demand honesty and simplicity. They expect words to line up with deeds. Though children can quickly get angry, they forgive just as fast, giving others the great gift of a second chance. They have a strong sense of justice and fair play. They look at everything with new eyes, and point out to us the incredible beauty of the world around us.

Imagine what would happen if we applied these values to our government, foreign policy, corporate business models, environmental decisions, and educational theory.

A society that doesn’t welcome children is doomed. Yet the odds don’t appear to be stacked in favor of children or their caregivers, whether parents or teachers. As the gap between rich and poor steadily widens, more and more families can hardly afford basics like housing and insurance. In many cities, desperate family conditions have necessitated the rise of twenty-four-hour childcare. Parents who work long hours have no choice but to yield their children to caregivers who must take over many traditional parenting tasks such as dressing the children, providing breakfast, caring for them through sickness, and tucking them in at night.

Meanwhile, new and untested political mandates that threaten children’s originality and abilities are handed down to teachers and students. Voices of opposition rarely reach the ears of those who drive these decisions.

Beverly Braxton, a retired teacher and administrator, has worked on behalf of children for decades. She sums up our current dilemma:

I ask people in my community what concerns them most about children growing up in today’s world. Most people list similar concerns: the amount of time spent on media and technology, children’s exposure to sexual content and violence, lack of family time and eating on the run, the stress related to academic excellence, and children becoming less interested in spending time exploring the outdoors. Yet, when asked if they have any ideas regarding how these issues might be addressed, everyone I speak to seems to shrug their shoulders in exasperation.

Resignation may be an understandable response to this tangle of evils. But it is not the only response. If all of these concerns seem too great to tackle at once, at least each of us can start with the children we encounter every day.

My wife, Verena, and I both grew up in large families and were blessed with eight children of our own. God gave us forty-four grandchildren and, so far, one great-grandchild. We are thankful for each one of them.

During our marriage of almost fifty years, we have traveled together all over the globe. We have spent time in many developing countries as well as in war zones such as Rwanda, Iraq, Gaza, and Northern Ireland during “The Troubles.” On each of these journeys, we met hundreds of children. In their schools, we saw great determination despite very little funding. With eyes full of eagerness, these students showed us what they were learning, sang songs, and made us feel welcome. Some had walked miles for the privilege of an education. The hunger and hardship that many had endured was not yet written in their faces.

We saw that in some of the most impoverished nations, children are considered a national treasure. They represent the future of an entire civilization, not only the inheritors of a family name. Even some of the most destitute villages had a school in a central location, raised by community effort and whatever meager materials could be scraped together.

Every time we returned to America, we experienced a culture shock. Western society is fueled by money, but relatively little finds its way into childcare centers and schools. Are places of learning the center of community life? Are children considered a national treasure? In terms of future income earners with buying power, yes. But as unique individuals who offer hope for the renewal of civilization? Not so much. In fact, often the discussion centers on the pros and cons of having children at all: the financial risks, the unaffordable health costs, and the burden of education.

When I spoke with my neighbors Steve and Shannon, who have four children, about this tendency to view children in economic terms, Shannon answered decisively:

Unfortunately when the media and the surrounding world tells us, “A child costs this much money,” that puts a lot of stress on people. You have to say, “How much love can I give?” not, “How much money do I have?”

Most parents, when they see their baby for the first time, can’t say, “Take him back,” or “I don’t want her.” I would be hard-pressed to find a parent who doesn’t look into the eyes of a child and feel an instant love, an overwhelming sense of joy.

What good is it to be happy if you don’t have someone to share it with? Is it possible to have joy by yourself – selfish joy? It’s meant to be given away; the more kids you have, the more joy there is to spread around and amplify it.

Despite what the “child-free” movement would have us believe, having children today is normal, good, and natural. Parenting should not be viewed as an insurmountable financial risk or a great emotional and psychological burden. It is not something for experts only. But it does need a heart of love for children and a willingness to sacrifice for them. Without the readiness for sacrifice, how can we experience what life is all about?

Of course, there are many people who are all too familiar with sacrifice, working in difficult circumstances or dangerous jobs with little reward. You might expect them to argue that in a hazardous, frightening world it is simply too hard to protect someone as helpless as a child. But a recent conversation I had with a young police officer challenges that assumption, too.

Among my various pastoral duties, I serve as chaplain for several state and local law enforcement agencies. This gives me the chance to join them in serving those in need around my county and state. Mark, one of the officers I counsel, was involved in a serious altercation with a troubled young man who had outstanding warrants for his arrest. While attempting to bring him into custody, the situation became violent.

During post-incident counseling, Mark shared with me how profoundly this experience had affected him. He and his fiancée, Rita, reevaluated their priorities and decided to marry a year earlier than planned. In fact, I was honored to offer a prayer of blessing at their marriage, and later to bless the arrival of their son. Mark shared his thoughts about parenting:

We always thought about having kids. Our main fear was for their future. Will they live in a world of chaos, unable to enjoy growing up, always in fear for their lives? What will the survival rate be in the future? We realized that we need to raise kids with the right morals and attitude – “soldiers of tomorrow.” It’s up to us to raise our kids to be what we want the world to be. My contribution to tomorrow is to teach my son values like the difference between right and wrong. As scary as it is with the world going to hell, at least I can do something for one person.

We’re not going to be here forever. We have to pass on what we can, because otherwise it stops here. I learned a lot from my grandfather. He would be upset if all the knowledge and life lessons that he shared ended with me. So I feel relieved that I get to pass it on to another generation. My son can take it on and hopefully pass it on to his kids.

Parenting is a roller-coaster ride. It’s not always easy, but it’s not always going to be tough either. The rewards compensate for the costs that you pay. The things that are given back to you far outweigh the “burden” of not being able to go out to the bar for a drink, or whatever you want to do. Nothing beats the feeling of their arms around you. Just to look a child in the eye and know that you’re the reason they’re here, to see them explore the world – you can’t put that kind of feeling into words. Part of me that was locked away for many years is coming back out and I’m learning how to play like a child again.

I deal with harsh realities every day. To come home at night and just sit there and watch my son sleep – it makes the world okay.

Sceptics will say that it’s one thing for a family with two parents and two jobs to talk about welcoming children. But I heard the same message from someone with none of these benefits. Lisa, a home-care nurse, raised her daughter alone.

My friends keep asking me how I did it. I’m still not sure how to answer. I could say it was tough. I could tell you that we ate whenever we had something to eat, and it was sometimes once a day. I could tell about sharing a mattress in front of the faulty heating element. But my daughter, who is nineteen now, will tell a different story: how we laughed till we knocked the heater over, how we cried onto each other’s shoulders. Of course she would have liked a dad. Of course I kept praying for him, and he didn’t come back. But where would I be without her? I don’t think I would have made it alone. And I hate to think of the world without her in it.

Not every child is as fortunate as Lisa’s daughter, raised by a brave and resourceful mother, or Mark’s son, with two strong and determined parents in a secure home. But I’ve found that children remain children at heart, even those who have been deprived of a childhood. They may be victims of abuse, addictions, or broken families. Though emotionally scarred, they look at you with so much hope. You can see the questions in their eyes: “What can you do for me? Where do I fit into this world?” Over the years I have learned that every child has a story to tell. Each of their stories needs to be told to someone who has time to listen – a parent, a trusted teacher, a guidance counselor.

My wife and I are co-founders of a program called Breaking the Cycle, which seeks to bring the positive answer of nonviolent conflict resolution and forgiveness to schools, where the fear of school shootings, as well as gang violence and bullying, affects children, teachers, and parents. At some assemblies, we address several thousand students at once. Looking out over such a sea of children’s faces is inspiring, but also sobering. Every assembly reminds me of the Hasidic saying, “If you save one child, you save the world.” It is vital to tell children that they are important; that we are here for them and love them.

Hashim Garrett has become a keynote speaker in this program. At age fifteen, he was shot six times in a gang-related attack that left him partially paralyzed from the waist down. At first, he was filled with anger and a desire for revenge. But in time, he realized that forgiving the perpetrator would liberate him from the trap of hate, and give him the opportunity to help others.

A devout Muslim, Hashim says his faith has guided him toward forgiveness. It has also helped him and his wife make critical choices on the home front as they wrestle with the difficulties of raising a family responsibly:

I am blessed to have a beautiful wife, Mia, and two wonderful children. Being a husband with a disability is a test. There are things that I cannot do with my wife and children. I cannot play in the ocean with my children on vacation. I cannot teach them how to ride a bike. But my children know that their father loves them very much. I have learned that the quantity of our possessions is not what’s truly important; it’s the quality of time we spend together. When I am home, I play with them, hug them, bathe them, feed them, read with them, and most importantly, we pray together.

When we enrolled our two-year-old daughter in daycare, it was with an overwhelming sense of vulnerability; for the first time, we would leave our only child in the care of strangers. It seemed totally unavoidable. Harmony attended daycare nine hours a day while I worked and Mia went to school. After a time, we began to notice behavior and personality changes in Harmony. She would cry, throw tantrums, and not want to go to school in the morning. This was not the daughter we knew.

My wife seriously considered quitting her training to stay home with Harmony. At first, I was very concerned about Harmony’s social development and our lack of teaching experience. I could just imagine our relatives and friends asking, “Why would you want to take your child out of childcare?” Then there was the financial sacrifice required for one parent to remain home, while the other worked full-time.

But it came to a tipping point. With our family spending most of our day away from one another, we were using our physical and emotional reserves on things other than our family. We missed the laughter in our home. We finally decided to begin homeschooling Harmony.

Our decision has transformed our home into a place where everyone is learning. My wife and I learn patience with our children. We learn to love, laugh, and appreciate the small things. We learn to forgive one another.

Hashim and Mia considered all the difficulties arrayed against them: Hashim’s disability, their economic challenges, and their children’s needs. Then they consciously chose to put their children first. To them, nothing was as important as those first precious years of being together and starting off right.

President Franklin D. Roosevelt often emphasized this essential task of families in society:

We all recognize that the spirit within the home is the most important influence in the growth of the child. In family life the child should first learn confidence in his own powers, respect for the feelings and the rights of others, the feeling of security and mutual good will, and faith in God. Mothers and fathers, by the kind of life they build within the four walls of the home, are largely responsible for the future social and public life of the country.

Just as we cannot take care of the child apart from the family, so his welfare is bound up with a lot of other institutions that influence his development – the school, the church, the agencies that offer useful interests for leisure time. . . . And the money and hard work that go into these public and private enterprises are, again, repaid many times.1

As a nation, how far have we strayed from this vision? Raising children and educating them takes courage, but there are tremendous rewards. Parents and teachers can leave a legacy that will not be forgotten. But it can’t stop there. We need to speak out beyond the walls of the home or classroom.

On behalf of all children, we need to turn our national priorities upside down, with spending for children at the top, and guns and bombs at the bottom – if we leave them there at all. New schools, not new prisons, could multiply across the country, and politicians could win on the most creative platform for education, not the toughest approach to crime or the most belligerent foreign policy.

The world needs children, but they also need us.

We owe them more than mere survival. In the words of Indian poet Rabindranath Tagore:

Children are living beings – more living than adults, who have built shells of habit around themselves. Therefore it is absolutely necessary for their mental health and development that they should have not only schools for their lessons, but a world whose guiding spirit is personal love.2

New children are born into our world every day, and as Tagore writes, each one brings “the renewed message that God has not lost faith in humankind.” It is a mystical thought, but it carries a challenge as well. If the Creator has not lost hope in our humanity, who are we to do so?