Have Mercy!

Kids can be downright brats.  I've known many such kids over the years.  There have been times when I wondered how in the world a parent could let a child "act like that" in public.  (Wal-Mart, my other home, comes to mind first.)

You may think this blog post is about bratty kids.  It's not.  It's about mercy.  I have received more than my share of mercy in my life.  Much more.  Here are two accounts of times when I most assuredly should have been punished but was shown mercy.  Both times said mercy was extended by my precious mother, now in Heaven for 27 years.

Once when I was about six or so, Daddy decided it was time to add the bathroom to his old home place to which we had moved upon leaving our home near Atlanta.  Yes, THE bathroom.  The only bathroom it ever had.  Decision made, Mother and Daddy asked someone they knew that was qualified to install the new loo, and he came over one day to discuss the particulars.  He brought his little boy with him.  His little boy was my age.  His little boy was in my class at school.  I was the only kid on Briscoe Hill.  Do you know what it does to a kid who is the only kid in the area when a kid...a kid from school...comes over for the first (and only) time?  A kid like me has to show out a little because she doesn't know anything else to do.  So when I was to put the glass milk bottle out (yes, we had a milkman who actually brought milk to our house in glass bottles!) my mother said, "Don't throw it.  It'll break."  Of course, I knew more than she did and gave it a toss into the grass.

Upon hearing the tinkling of breaking glass, I knew all too well what had occurred, was mortified, and ran into the house.  I think I was even crying.  The boy from my class was sitting on the porch watching as I totally disobeyed my mother AND made myself look foolish.  My mother followed me into the house and found me sobbing.  Instead of the thrashing that I probably expected, she came near and put her arm around me.  She probably hugged me to herself and told me it was okay until I quit crying.  I don't remember what happened after that.  I guess I was too much in awe of her kindness to remember or even care.

The second time was several years later when my cousin and her parents were coming to visit.  She is about my age and we played together well, so I was excited.  We only had the opportunity to get together a few times a year and when we did, it was always fun.  But wouldn't you know it, something came up and they couldn't come.  I found out just about time we were sitting down to supper with my brother and his family.  I was pouting and acting up (again) and my brother, who was sitting across the table from me, thought it necessary to mock me.  (Don't ever mock a kid who has been sorely disappointed.  I've already said I was the only kid on Briscoe Hill, so pulling the rug out from under a promised visit from another kid was serious.)  I simply HAD to get back at him, so I scooped up some mashed potatoes from my plate, pulled back the spoon, and catapulted the thick, sticky goop across the table and planted it firmly upon his bare forehead.  What was that voice?  My conscience.  "June, you are dead where you sit."  Again, when I expected my mother to launch herself across the table at me, she just dished out the mercy.  Looking back (and being a mother of two myself) she probably was thinking to herself, "Good for you.  He deserved it."  After all, he's seventeen years older than I am.  He should have known better.

My mother taught me a lot about parenting, just by her excellent example.  I don't mean to mislead you...I got plenty of punishment for plenty of misbehaviors.  However, my mother was a very loving and discerning person and balanced life very well.  I suppose there are three kinds of mothers in the world:  those who beat their children for the least infraction of the rules; those who have no rules and therefore never punish a kid for breaking them because they don't exist; and those like my mother who weigh the circumstances at hand before acting.  I wish all the brats in the world had mothers with as much love and mercy as the one I had.