Empathy

For a while now I have been involved with Project SHARE, a wonderful non-profit organization that provides food and many other services to our community. My kids know that Mommy goes to meetings there and they love to hand out food at distributions, when we can actually make it. Today we worked out our schedules so that they could come with me to the volunteer fall festival. It was a great event and the kids had fun making Thanksgiving cards for recipients. Decorating and coloring aren't really Ethan's forte, so he started losing interested after a few cards. Emily, on the other hand, could color all day long. As Ethan began slumping in his chair, he started looking around and noticed other volunteers bagging large amounts of strawberries. Of course, he asked if he could go get some to eat. I asked him if anyone else was actually eating them, and he immediately replied no. I then asked him who he thought would get the strawberries. Having told my kids what Project SHARE does, he knew the answer to this. We finished up as many cards as we could when luckily it was time for lunch. In the distribution room, where the tables were set up to eat, there was a slide show of many of the events over the last year. In these pictures flashed pictures of beautiful smiling faces. The kids enjoyed watching the photos fade in and out. As the pictures of the Fun Fest (a festival at the beginning of the school year for kids to receive all sorts of great supplies) came up, E yelled, "Hey, Mom, that's my friend!" A young boy E's age and his little sister were receiving new backpacks. I know there are many students at E's school who also receive food from Project SHARE every weekend, so they will have something to eat at home. At that moment, I wondered if E even thought about what that other boy's life must be like. I wondered if I should try to make him understand that. I wondered if he can really understand how lucky we truly are to have food on our table. I wondered if E will tell the boy he saw him in this picture and if it will make a difference in the relationship he has with him. I wondered when that stigma starts to matter and why it even matters at all. I always struggle with these questions because I do want my kids to live a sheltered life, untouched by worries and need. As a parent, I want them to have everything their hearts desire. I want their bellies to be full, their eyes rested, their toes warm, their hands clean, and their minds open. I want them to be able to do anything. But I also want them to realize there are people who don't have much of anything at all. So how do you do that? I don't think my kids really comprehend the struggles some people face everyday, but part of that is because I don't want to expose them to these "bad" things. I want them to be happy, carefree kids, but I want them to be caring and thoughtful and kind. I want them to see those strawberries, and instead of wanting to eat them, readily give them away.