It seems lately like I’ve been hearing a chorus of “Mama can I have…?”. Although my daughter’s voice is lovely, I often find myself answering, “Of course you can have that. No one deserves it more than you and when you earn the money to buy it, I think it should be the first thing you get.” In a generation bombarded with multimedia advertising and, frankly, a sense of entitlement I see in many young people today, I find myself struggling with how to raise compassionate children.
During the holidays this year we chose to not give gifts for the fifth night of Hanukkah and instead donated to Toys for Tots. We’ve also had Giana (my four-year-old) pack up a box of clothes, toys and supplies to send to Haiti. We try to educate her with the fact that there are people in this world that are not as fortunate as she is. I often wonder how much that is actually sinking in.
Recently, we had a family experience that was a small sign that maybe, just maybe, we’re raising a compassionate child. It was a typical Saturday morning, always a toss up if we’re going to go on a family outing or take care of the list of house projects that seems to be getting longer by the day.
We decided Jude (our extremely energetic two-year-old) needed some activity to wear himself our. I read about Whirligig, a bouncy house festival at Seattle Center. The minute we mentioned the idea, I thought Giana would bounce out of her skin with excitement. We decided to go for it, and after packing up a suitcase full of snacks, diapers, wipes etc. we finally made it out of the house; an accomplishment in itself!
As we were driving down our street, filled with excitement, there was a thud on our window and we realized a robin had flown into our windshield. We pulled over and I went to check on the poor little bird. She had made it over to a grassy area, but looked completely stunned and was unable to fly. My husband and I didn’t want to freak out our four-year-old so we told her the bird was just stunned, but would be fine. I wasn’t so sure. Was its wing broken? Or neck?
We figured there was nothing we could do and, not wanting to disappoint our kids, we kept going on our outing. Wrestling with our consciences, Chris and I decided to check if there was a wildlife rescue anywhere in the Seattle area. Sure enough, we found PAWS in Lynnwood that rehabilitates injured and orphaned wildlife.
I called and they told me to bring the robin in. Giana was listening from the backseat and said,” Mama, we have to go back and help the robin.” When I asked her about the bouncy houses she said, “We can go after we help the bird.” Full of pride, we turned the car around and we drove back to rescue our bird.
When we got back to the spot, the bird was gone! There was no sign of foul play (the neighborhood cats have a bad reputation) but there was a nest with happy robins and they all seemed to be all right.
I know, I know (for all you Portlandia fans) we are the “Put a bird on it” family, but I also love that we are that family. I love that my four-year-old could put a little bird’s well being ahead of her own fun. It feels good to have a small validation that our messages of empathy and compassion might actually sinking in. Maybe, just maybe, she does listen to some of the things we say! Hurray!!
-posted by Miss Steph, who wants you to know that for the record, this story not only has a happy ending, it has a musical tie-in. As we were driving back to Seattle Center, Giana starting singing, to the tune of “Surrender” by Cheap Trick, “The bird is alright, the bird is alright, she just was a little hurrrt.” PRIDE, my little compassionate rocker.









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