by Ken Pierpont

We live in a very quiet neighborhood. Late one evening I was listening to some music when I heard a loud crash on the street. It took me a while to realize what had happened. Earlier that evening my wife wanted me to go to the store to get some soft drinks. It seemed like this would be a good time to let my teenage daughter get in a little practice driving. I sent her to the store with her older brother riding shotgun. She took my truck. I settled back to enjoy the music.

At dinner earlier that evening my oldest son was speaking admiringly of the truck. It is a little four-wheel drive Ford Explorer and the kids knew I enjoyed having it. It is the nicest car I have ever owned. I said, "Guys, my heart is not set on that car. I like it but it is just rusting metal and it is a depreciating item. It won't last forever. Never set your heart on anything that is temporary." I had no idea how prophetic my advice was that night.

The thud on the street was followed by a commotion upstairs and then the whole family pouring down the steps led by thirteen year old Chuck who shouted, "Dad! Dad, Holly wrecked your car."

My heart sank and my mind was flooded with conflicting thoughts. Was anyone hurt? Who else was involved? I ran to the door with a racing heart and in that instant a message came clearly to my spirit like a voice in my heart: "Here is your chance. You have always looked for ways to show Holly that she is precious to you. Here is a unique opportunity to show her what you really love. How you react now is something that she will probably never forget."

To my surprise the accident had not occurred on the street, but right in my own driveway. And my fears about damage to the property of other people melted when I saw that the collision was with our other car, the family van. In her inexperience Holly had confused the brakes and accelerator. In an instant both of my cars were wrecked. Holly was unhurt physically but when I reached her she was crying softly and saying over and over again, "Oh, Dad, I'm sorry, I'm sorry Dad, I know how much you love this car." I wrapped her in my arms and she cried and my heart melted for her.

Later that week an adult friend stopped by and asked what happened to my truck. I swore her to secrecy and then told her what happened. Her eyes moistened and she said, "That happened to me when I was a girl. I borrowed my Dad's car and ran into a log that had fallen across the road. I was able to drive the car home, but it was totaled. When I got home my Dad dragged me from the car, knocked me to the ground and began to kick me."

Over forty years later the pain of that rejection still moved her to tears. It was a deep wound on her soul.

I remembered how tender-hearted Holly had been the night she wrecked the car and how vulnerable she was at that moment and I breathed a prayer of thanks to God for His gentle reminder that night. Someday years from now when Holly thinks back on her life and she remembers me I want her to know that I loved her a thousand times more than all my earthly possessions put together.

I repaired the van, but the wrinkle in the hood of my truck is still there today. Every day it reminds me of the really priceless things in my life. I don't mind having damage to my truck, but I don't want to be responsible for damage to my daughter's heart.

Ken Pierpont

ABOUT THIS WRITER:

Ken is from Fremont, Michigan. He is a pastor, singer, song-writer, speaker, humorist, story-teller, husband, and father of eight children. He plays a little harmonica and knows enough guitar chords to put his children to sleep at night. He frequently speaks and sings with his family at camps, retreats, conferences, banquets and home-school seminars.

His Web Site is The Pine Street Parsonage

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by Carol

In 1969, when my daughter was about 3, we went to a restaurant in a small town in northwestern Washington to meet her dad for dinner. While we waited, a group of black men entered and noisily rounded up tables and chairs so they could sit together. My daughter is a people watcher and a perfectionist. She watched these men for a few minutes and when it became obvious to her they planned to remain at their tables, she very loudly announced: "My mommy makes me wash before I eat!" The hush that fell over the diner was complete. Remember, this was 1969. Blushing, I stammered apologies and tried to shush her before she started a riot.

One of the men detached himself from his group of friends and approached our table. I knew it. We were dead.

Smiling, the man slid into the booth next to my daughter and replied: "My mom does, too!" He then took a paper napkin and dipped it into her water glass, offering to let her 'wash his hands.' As hard as she scrubbed, she couldn't get him clean. Her eyes got bigger and she handed him back the soggy napkin. The man then gently explained to her that his skin was that color all over and he was, indeed, not dirty.

His gentle understanding impressed everyone and explained to me why the Harlem Globetrotters were known as the Ambassadors of Goodwill. The man was kind enough to introduce himself. His name: Meadowlark Lemon, the famous basketball player.

Post Script

About seven years later, Virginia nearly started a local version of Little Big Horn in our mixed neighborhood. On the school bus, she asked her friend and neighbor: "How does it feel to be an Indian?" The girl's mother stormed over to my house and told me in no uncertain terms that her daughter was traumatized and I could tell mom was, too!

I turned to Virginia and asked, "How does it feel to be black?" The same old intake of breath and hush fell over the room.

I then explained to Virginia that her father, who was Syrian, had mentioned once that he probably had some African ancestors. When my daughter could understand that she didn't feel any different for knowing of her possible black heritage, she could understand how her question had bothered her friend.

This lesson hasn't stopped her from being outrageously inquisitive and outspoken. She was abused, as were her brother and me, but she never backed down from her father. She asked me once how God let her be hurt so badly and all I could do was shoot up a prayer for help with the right words and answered: "Maybe God needs you to have this experience so you can help others who have been abused like you."

Her goal in life now is to become a lawyer and protect youth at risk. She is fiercely protective of her own children and volunteers to counsel youth who are in trouble. In her spare time she studies law while raising three plus children with her wonderful husband.

When some child in Juvenile Hall tells her she doesn't understand what they are going through, she can say: "Yes I do!" She's a hero who turned her nightmare into a weapon to protect others.

Carol Hadley, Washington

ABOUT THIS WRITER:

Carol says that she was an "Air Force brat" and until 1981 she had never lived anywhere longer than 18 months. She eventually enlisted in the US Coast Guard as the first woman to do so since W.W. II. Carol writes: "I married a career sailor long enough to get two wonderful children. Went on to become a horse trainer, police officer, tour guide, artist and now am crazy about writing stories! There's more, but I haven't done it yet. (Get pilot's license is on my to do list). Today Carol is a single grand mother. She drives a school bus for children with disabilities.

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by Regina

Trying to be a good mother these days is a great deal of pressure. You need to have your child signed up for preschool while in the womb and in "mommy and me" classes before conceived. You want them to be cultured in all areas of life. You never stop worrying if you are doing a good job as a parent.

I started taking my daughter to plays and museums at a young age. She was my only child so she went where I went. I never let having her stop me from going somewhere. I figured she will start to learn about the world around her. I wanted to teach her all I could. I wanted her to be smart, kind, loving, and caring.

One day I took her to the Natural History Museum in New York City. My daughter was three at the time. I knew she would like the animals, especially the giant whale hanging from the ceiling. She loved whales and dolphins. This was her first trip to the city and a museum. I hoped she would have fun and learn some things.

We walked in to the area where the whale hung and my daughter screamed out while pointing "Mom, Why does that man over there keep dancing?" I turned my head and saw a very handicapped man with problems with his back and legs struggling to walk.

I was so embarrassed by how loud she yelled I knew I had to answer her before she yelled again. I was hoping he did not hear her. I simply replied "He loves to dance, it just makes him happy."

Well he did hear us and was headed toward her. I was lost for words. I was going to just apologize to the gentleman. Just say kids will be kids. He approached us and I saw a smile on his face. He thanked me for having a wonderful child. He said children and adults always make fun of him and that was the nicest thing anyone has ever said about him. He turned to her and said "Yes, little angel, I love to dance. It makes me happy." And he wobbled away.

I knew that day I was doing something right as a mom. My daughter taught me a lesson that day. She taught me that the best thing you can do for your child is live by example. By being good to others your child learns to be good to others. To this day, my daughter now ten, is a kind, compassionate person. I am very proud of who she is growing up to be.

Regina

ABOUT THIS WRITER:

Regina is a full time mom. She is very involved in her daughter's life. She says, "We live in New York with Cory and all our pets. Our home is filled with a great deal of love."

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by Linda

I am a stay at home mom of five children who are between the ages of 7 and 14 years. We spend a great deal of time together as a family. Eating supper together is a daily event. I understand that this is not the norm these days for most families. I couldn't imagine it any other way.

Other parents have told me that they are very busy most of the time, but the time they spend with their children is 'quality time'. I could never get used to that term. I believe that every second we spend with our children is quality time and the more, the better. We don't have to be doing things or entertaining ourselves to have quality time; just sitting on the couch brushing my daughter's hair while she tells me all about her day is more worthwhile, I think. We don't have to dish out the big bucks either, to make our children happy.

My children and I walked along the shore one day and I wrote in the sand with a big stick, 'The best things in life are free'. The children knew exactly what I was talking about. They were having so much fun skipping flat stones onto the water, watching the tuna fishing boats off in the distance and the sun setting so colorfully on the horizon. So often both parents work so they can give their children the 'things' they didn't have themselves growing up... but what the child needs the most is the parent, at least one of them. Sometimes, I suppose, it is necessary for both parents to work just to provide the basics like food and shelter. But once these are provided, the most important thing that should be provided is the parent.

I worked up until my first son was born. I took the allowable 6 months maternity leave followed by my entire vacation followed by a few more days until one day the phone rang and my boss asked me when I planned to come back to work. I told him I would be in on Monday. My heart broke that day as I drove away leaving my little boy with his sitter (my mom). I worked for a couple of months, rushing back to him at noon to breast feed him. I tried this for almost two months when I discovered I was expecting baby number two!

It was a sign from God. My husband and I discussed it, and I decided to give up my job and become a stay at home mom. I haven't looked back since. Our seven year old asked me "What does 'never looked back since' mean, Mom?" I told her that I am very happy that I quit my job so I could be home with her and her brothers and sisters.' She smiled big and wrapped her two little arms around my neck and she told me she loved me. Try putting that in my bank account!!

It's not the designer jeans or the video games that children are going to remember; it's the times they spent being together as a family that they will cherish for the rest of their lives. My happiest memories as a child are from when we moved from living in with my grandparents and aunts and uncles into a tiny two roomed house with no running water or facilities. It was only for a short time, but my parents made it a happy time for us.

Life is so short and the time we have our children at home with us is so precious. Other moms tell me how much they regret having worked while their children were at home. I pray that we don't get caught up with the materialism of today's society. It can be tempting, but just as I am about to give in, I get one of those hugs and the temptation fades away.

Thank you God for giving me this most precious gift and please continue to guide me in doing what is right for my family. I also pray for other mothers who may be struggling with the decision to work or to stay at home with their children.

Linda Rankin

ABOUT THIS WRITER:

Linda is a married, stay-at-home mother of five children. She has a Bachelor's Degree from a local University. Her children range in age from 14 - 7 years old. She spends her time caring for her family and running the household. Linda just recently had a web site designed for her brother-in-law. It is located at http://www.cherproductions.com/peterrankin/

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