Teaching kindness

I received a thoughtful email from a friend today, noting that her daughter recently commended mine for her kindness. My friend added, 'congratulations on raising a nice girl!' My daughter has also been noticed for her recent kindnesses in Sunday School, on vacation with relatives, and by the mom of another friend. All of the folks who kindly relay the acts and the commendations to me also add their congratulations and/or approval of my spouse and myself. I have to cringe inwardly while honestly telling them that my daughter is a kind person because it is her innate nature - she probably learns more of what not to do from me.

One example that literally leaps to mind transpired when we traveled as a family to Guatemala to meet our youngest son and bring him home. My daughter was only 6 when we traveled to Guatemala City, a relatively timid first-grader. Both my son and daughter enjoyed playing with their new brother and his friends at the orphanage, a loving place nonetheless confined to a small concrete building, courtyard and diminutive play structure. Our youngest was not quite two years old, quite attached to his friends and caregivers at APIF, and desperately opposed to being left alone with us. All of the photos from our first day show him in a corner, searching for a way out, his big brown eyes wide over tear-streaked cheeks.

The trauma of the situation made a big impression on my two older children, who attempted vainly to woo their new brother with toys, balloons and balls. At the time of our trip I had contracted a kidney infection and my primary memory consists of the cold concrete floor underneath me as I watched the children at their lopsided play, wondering how on earth we would move forward.

Later that week we dined at a McDonald's within walking distance of our hotel in Guatemala City. Our little guy clung to his dad as he did the entire week, recognizing and quite logically hitching his star to the stronger, more rational and stable parent. The McDonald's entrance was guarded by a machine-gun wielding soldier, young and petite but nonetheless frightening to North American children (and parents). I collapsed at a table between the high chair and my daughter, holding on to my composure by the width of a french fry as I battled another 102 degree fever (note the litany of excuses - more to come).

Midway through the meal a young woman came into the restaurant, momentarily freed to enter by the brief absence of our guard. I could not understand her verbal request but her open palm, beseeching stare and young child on her hip made her need for money rather obvious - even to my children. As the young lady passed our table with her request, I looked at her and shook my head. "Lo siento," I said - I'm sorry. My purse was across the table in the diaper bag, my new toddler boxing me in on the left side, my desire to help swamped in self-pity.

She gathered pesos from several tables, mostly occupied by Guatemalan citizens, then fled as the soldier returned with decided disapproval on his face and a swing of his weapon. My daughter turned to me and said, "Mommy, why didn't you help that girl? Everyone gave her money except for us."

I was branded by her stare. Heartsick, I tried to explain, going through all of the excuses I have listed here for you. She just shook her head, noting "the baby looked hungry." So I compounded my error but asking my spouse for pesos, pressing them into her hand and saying, "Go under the table and head toward the door to see if you can catch her. I'll be right behind you."

Go running through a restaurant in Guatemala City under the nose of an armed man? That was not her idea of a mission, though when I finally extricated myself from the trap of McDonald's seating she was game to head out a few feet in front of me to look for the young woman. We went outside and around the corner together, but she was gone. Gone in our vision, gone for my daughter, but never far from my mind, especially when I hear compliments about raising children to be kind. I know what I did that day - and it was not an example of kindness.

Father Dan Groody has a great quote about kindness. He relates traveling near the border and viewing a man in great need, probably an undocumented person. His traveling companion, an elderly priest, friend and mentor, taught him a profound lesson. Groody writes that his friend saw the man and stated," 'I never take chances with people like that.' Surprised by his words, (Groody) said, 'What do you mean?' He replied, 'That's Jesus over there, and we need to welcome him.' " (From "Testimony of Being a Good Samaritan, Rev. Daniel G. Groody, in Trails of Hope and Terror, de la Torre, 2009).

In a Guatemalan McDonald's I failed to welcome Jesus, failed to give pesos to a hungry young woman and her child, failed to show my child an example of kindness, and failed myself. That's a lot of failure to fit into a 45-minute dinner outing, and don't think I plan to forget it. When people compliment me on my daughter, I truly thank God for the person she is and believe that she inspires and teaches me more than I can ever teach her.