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Gratitude

Writer: Stacey ToneyStacey Toney




As a child, I was ungrateful. I think we all have been ungrateful at some point in our lives. There’s bound to be something we take for granted. I remember growing up, I would get up before everyone else and venture in the dark to the living room. I would go through all the presents left by Santa, and, if I’m being honest, there were times I was disappointed. Being disappointed is a crossroads. The true testament to your heart is how you handle disappointment. I can admit that I haven’t always handled disappointment well. Hindsight is another crossroads. Shame (or lack thereof) is another testament to who you are. I have so much shame for things I did and said to my mom as a child. I have so much guilt for many mishandled situations in my youth. I am glad that those experiences taught me how NOT to be, but it’s hard for me to look back and see myself in that light. It’s shameful and embarrassing that I didn’t see the bigger picture.


Anyone who has been through the education program knows that children go through different stages of life. That doesn’t just mean physically. Growth occurs mentally, emotionally, and socially. There are certain stages in which we humans struggle with empathy. There are situations when our thinking isn’t abstract enough to process situations beyond the here and now. I have to keep that in mind not only when I look back on my past but as I deal with my own kids.


Going back to those early Christmas mornings I am shamed because of what I didn’t understand at the time. My dad had been in a great job working for the oil company. Things happen, as they do, and the company pulled out of West Virginia leaving my parents with the decision to stay or go. They chose to stay, and my dad chose to further his education. During those years of my dad working odd jobs while completing a rigorous college program, we didn’t have a lot. My mom went back to work, and we were fortunate enough to have help here and there from both sets of grandparents and my great grandparents. We didn’t go without anything we needed and even had some things we wanted. My mom and dad never missed a house payment (even if that meant cutting back on groceries). They never failed to provide for us. They scraped and saved to do things for us and with us. I know now that my mom and dad did without in order to make sure that their kids didn’t. Going to a restaurant was a treat. Getting two pairs of jeans for school was a treat. I am a better person for how my parents raised me. I am a better person for the struggles they faced. Looking back on those Christmas mornings when I was disappointed shames me, because I know that they did the best they could for us and that each gift was bought with hard earned money and out of love. How dare I not be grateful for that?


Then, I remember my first Christmas. Not my actual first Christmas in 1984, but I remember the first one as a married woman. This was the first Christmas without my midnight trips to my parents’ living room. I was pregnant and in a new home. I missed my mom and dad. I missed my sisters. I missed our Christmas Day traditions. I missed that feeling of anticipation. I just wanted to go home. My heart literally hurt. I felt lost and alone even though I wasn’t. It was unreasonable. It was in that moment that I appreciated everything and more. I remember opening one of the gifts my mom had stuck in my car the night before as I cried. It was the Bourne Identity trilogy. It seems silly now. I hadn’t told her I wanted it. It wasn’t a huge gift. It wasn’t an over the top surprise. It was just EXACTLY what I wanted. I sat in my little living room and wept over that DVD set. I told Noah, “She always knows. She always knows exactly what I want.” It makes no sense to some I’m sure, but I held so much shame and so much gratitude sitting there that morning while my husband stared at me like I had lost my mind.


Since becoming an adult, I have learned what length my parents went to in order to provide. I have experienced the perspective of a parent to an ungrateful child. To say I’m not more shamed since experiencing first hand the sting that comes with that lack of gratitude would be a lie. Even knowing what I know, I managed to try to make up for things I felt lacking in my childhood. My childhood wasn’t lacking. My mindset was, and we have to do better. I am a firm believer in reaping what you sow, and I am currently reaping unfortunately. Like everything else, this is a crossroads. How do I teach my kids gratitude? How do I handle this? This is a different world than the one in which my husband and I were raised. It seems like there are so many more distractions for kids and adults alike. The meaning of the word “fair” seems to have changed. The level of entitlement has overcome the notion of thankfulness. I just need guidance to take the right path and know where to go from here. My kids deserve better than being completely spoiled with everything being handed to them on a silver platter.


Psalms 32:8 - I will instruct thee and teach thee in the way which thou shalt go: I will guide thee with mine eye.



 
 
 

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