I remember standing in my parent’s kitchen the day after my mother died. The pill bottles lining the countertop were yesterday’s reminders to take her daily dose. With little warning, they had become new reminders that she would never walk through the kitchen door again. Cleaning away the bottles brought peaceful thoughts of her healing in heaven, but the absence of her presence left me with earthly grief.
Friends and relatives dropped by with casseroles and comforting words, but no one took the edge off the pain like two little girls who slipped into the kitchen with their mother that day. The oldest of the two carried a plate of sprinkled sugar cookies. Her mom described how the girls worked diligently to help make the cookies, especially for our family. The tenderness in the children’s expressions let me know they cared.
I thought of the girls long after the cookies were gone. I thought of their mother too. She was teaching her children ways to show love to their neighbors. The flour that spread beyond the boundaries of her countertop, and the butter smeared into the rug were all minor problems in her eyes. She tallied the cost and found it to be a small price to pay for this valuable teaching opportunity.
I was reminded of the mother I had lost. She was also a mother devoted to teaching “Love your neighbor” lessons to her children. One of those lessons impacted me like no other.
There was pain on Mama's face when my sister and I recounted incidents of daily cruelty a group of siblings endured on our school bus. My eight-year-old mind didn't understand why she cared so much for children she didn't know. I had a lot to learn about loving my neighbor. Mama was there to teach me.
The Hankensons came from a poor family. The minute they stepped onto the bus, bullies pelted them with a rumbling chorus of insults. Some held their noses, and others yelled, “Here come the Stinkensons!” There were snickers when the children on the bus saw the Hankenson children fish between the seats for bits of cookies and other discarded snacks to eat on their way to school.
Truth be known, my family had little more money than the Hankenson family. Unconcerned about the adjustments she’d have to make to the household budget, my mother was determined to involve my sister and me in an act of kindness towards these outcast children.
Just before Christmas, Mama took us to the store and made purchases for each child. I remember picking out the prettiest paper and watching her wrap them as if they were gifts for nobility. Carrying schoolbooks under one arm, and balancing stacks of presents with the other, we climbed onto the bus the next morning. We could hear the chatter and feel the stares. Everyone wanted to know who the presents were for, but we said nothing.
Then the time came.
I took a deep breath as the bus slowed to its stop and the door unfolded. My heart pounded. The Hankenson children were lined up, ready to enter the bowels of the big yellow monster that routinely devoured any evidence of joy they carried with them. The fear of becoming an outcast like them threatened to tie me to my seat. But as I looked at the sad, empty faces of each child stepping onto the bus, I began to see the children through my mother’s eyes. I saw children who needed a friend.
The school bus was never as quiet as it was that morning. Bullies seemed frozen in their
seats as they watched us pass out the gifts to the Hankenson children. It wasn’t the smiles on the faces of the siblings that surprised me. It was the change I saw in how they were treated from that day on. I honestly never remember hearing the word “Stinkensons” after that December morning. Somehow, I think our act of kindness validated their worth in the
minds of the other children.
I’m not sure how the story would have ended if God had not blessed me with a mother who looked at the world through Jesus’ eyes. I don’t know what I would have done if she hadn’t taught me to courageously stand up for the downtrodden. I fear I would have become one who sits quietly, enjoying my comfortable seat beside the mockers. Though I dare not imagine it, I might have become a mocker too.
God bless those who teach “Love Your Neighbor” lessons to the children in their lives. They are impacting the world in ways they may never know. After all, it wasn’t an armful of presents that disarmed the busload of bullies. It wasn’t the plate of cookies that parted the clouds of my darkest day. It was children who were being taught the value of loving their neighbors as much as they loved themselves. It was children who were learning to treat others the way they wanted to be treated.
Love God. Love your neighbor. If we only teach our children two things in their lifetime, it should be these. But we can't teach what we don't know. Let's ask God to sharpen our vision so we can see people as Jesus sees them. Let's pray our children will someday have Jesus eyes too. Until then, let's invite them to look at the world through our own.
Granny’s Sugar Cookies
Here's a "Love your neighbor" recipe to try. My mother told us her German ancestors brought it with them when they immigrated to America.
Ingredients
¾ cup butter
1 cup sugar
½ teaspoon soda
2 cups flour
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
Instructions
1. Beat butter and sugar together until light and fluffy.
2. Add soda, flour, and vanilla.
3. Mix until combined.
4. Bake at 350 degrees.
I enjoyed this opportunity to pass the cookie recipe down to the next generation.
It was the perfect time to remind them of ways we can show love to those around us.
When I heard the boys pointing out the prettiest cookies and making plans to add the best to our giveaway trays, I knew we had successfully achieved the ultimate goal of this project. They were putting the joy of others above the "wants" of their own! My heart was full.
Teaching
Love Your Neighbor Lessons
At Home
'Do to others as you would have them do to you.' Luke 6:31
The most valuable "Love Your Neighbor Lessons" are taught in the home, every day. How can we encourage children to have a "Do unto others" attitude?
Commit Matthew 7:12 to memory and remind your children of it often. Encourage them to ask themselves, "What would I want someone to do for me if I were in their shoes?"
Live out Matthew 7:12. Let children witness times when you have Christlike responses to situations requiring you to step into other shoes. Be honest about times you fail and discuss ways that you plan to move forward, in a better direction.
Partner with your children in adding salt and light in the lives of those who suffer. Go beyond pointing out needs they might not see. Encourage them to come up with ideas to be the ones who make a difference. Be there to help them carry out their act of kindness, whether that be pulling out a recipe and ingredients for a batch of cookies, or making plans to include a lonely child in their friend group.
Looking for a craft and creative activity for your classroom? Check out this blog!
Awesome!