As I came to be friends with more children through my teaching, I realized that much more important was the question: would this child leave this world as content as it entered it? What along the path of life would give this child pain or pleasure? Would the road be paved with gold or potholes, rain or shine, laughter or tears? Should all of this things be found along that road, and in what proportions?
As I walk my path, I watch my children grow sometimes as I did, and often times not. My path as a child was a difficult one, covered with the obstacles of abuse and neglect. The best that can be said of my childhood is that I survived it. My childrens' roads are smoother, and yet the bumps along the way sometimes find them reaching their hands out to me and the other adults in their lives for assistance.
I find, however, that there are times when my child/a child reaches out to me, and I cannot help him or her. I either do not know how to hurdle that obstacle, or I am afraid of it. I have been there once before and I remember the hurt, the confusion and frustration. That is when I know I must cover that section of road again, so that I can help that child along.
Our lives from birth to death are but a journey. Our part, when we become parents is to help a child along the road we once traveled. There is no one along the way who says we have arrived at wholeness. There is no bright neon sign proclaiming the finished product is ready for the world. The path for child and adult is the same one. As adults, in our willingness and strength to go back and face the harsh areas, and hurdle them again, is our example to the children that they too can do it. In it, as well, is the ability to help our children across those hurdles that once stopped us. It is not in our power to change or repave the road in splendor. It is in our strength to give ourselves, and thus, our children the tools to be better hurdlers and runners along the journey.
Along my road have been many who have made my journey very unique:
special thanks to my husband, Rich, who insists on waiting for me (and all these years I though I was waiting for him!),
thanks to my brothers and their families, who have planted the vegetable garden along the edges,
thanks to Steve, who gave me a warm shawl of friendship to take with me, and for insisting I take pen and paper along to record my adventures,
thanks to Bari and Marth, who have shown me the strength a woman can use on her way,
thanks to John, for planting a Vermont pine on a nearby hill which I can see from any place along my road,
thanks to those answering my questionnaire who shared with me a little of their roads and journeys,
thanks to all my friends at Goddard and at home, who have strewn the path with glitter, toys, hugs, and computers,
and thanks to the others in my life who dig the holes, pull up the flowers, and otherwise wreck havoc. What a boring journey it would be without them.
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