Sunday, March 22, 2009
Manners are a sensitive awareness of the feelings of others. If you have that awareness, you have good manners. ~ Emily Post
It's raining today. No afternoon walk to the top of Mt. Tabor today.
I know I've mentioned many times how busy Dylan is but I don't think you'd realize just how busy until you actually see him in motion. In public it takes everything in me to keep up with him. I'm lucky I'm as fast and as fit as I am. I can't picture any other woman I know who is my age who could anticipate his next move and nab him before he takes off like I do. And even then he can still slip past me every now and then but I'm getting better and better at recognizing the cockeyed grin that appears just before he darts off.
A few months ago we decided it was time for him to begin attending Sunday School and since he's usually on his best behavior with me it was decided I'd be the one to take him. Not that I mind. It's been years since my kids were in the Beginners' department and I love to watch the little ones singing the songs and absorbing the stories. Dylan sits around a small table with Genevieve and Jesse and Teacher Luba and I sit in a little chair off to the side...far enough away so Dylan figures he's on his own but close enough to give him a sense of security. I tried moving a little further away last week and it was "No, no, Mommy!" So. I sit. Is it just a 'girl' thing that attention spans seem to be longer in 2-3 year old girls? Genevieve sits so quietly and attentively, a perfect little lady, while Jesse and Dylan wrestle for possession of the Play Doh while Teacher Luba tries to tell the Bible story each week. Neither Jesse nor Dylan made it thru much of Sunday School today. Both spent a lot of time out walking thru the halls. Or, in Dylan's case, crawling. Dear Hubby had Cooper during Sunday School this morning because our daughter-in-law was sick and our son teaches a class so every time we'd come upon Papa and Cooper in the hall, Dylan would drop down on the floor and he and his brother would crawl towards each other as fast as they could, laughing and bumping heads. Just about everyone who crossed our paths either smiled or commented on how cute they were. But there's always one...always...who asks, "Is Dylan always so hard to handle?" or "Shouldn't he be in class?" or "He shouldn't be crawling in church." I'm glad it's me who hears these comments. I'm glad they're not voiced to my daughter-in-law. Or my son, for that matter. At my age you just slough them off with a laugh and say, "Well, he's a busy boy" and leave it at that. But when you're the parents, comments like that can be so hurtful. So offensive. What I find so ironic is a lot of the commenters are those whose own children were a little...busy...when they were little, too. How short memories can be.
What is so hard about keeping our mouths shut? Why can't we think what we think but keep it to ourselves? Are our rude opinions helping or hindering the ones we're voicing them to? What makes us think we're so good ourselves, without spot or blemish? Why are we always trying to find fault with others around us?
We used to have a dear, dear friend who died several years ago and he was such a wonderful example of what a true gentleman is. If he had nothing good or nice to say about someone he wouldn't say anything at all. He'd just smile benignly and let you come to your own conclusion.
He was a man of few words.