Columnist Carol Daniel
It’s that time of year that if you have one, the fireplace is being put to good use.
There is nothing like a roaring fire to set the right mood. Even our eight-year-old loves to help start the blaze. He often begs his father, “Daddy, can we have a fire tonight?”
“Daddy, when are you going to start the fire?”
“Daddy, can I put the wood in?”
Once the flames are dancing, he wants to sit a foot away to soak up all the heat and do his part. For him, that means tossing in bits of paper and watching them burn.
I know what you’re thinking. We think the same thing.
“No more, Marcus.”
“Leave the poker alone.”
“Put that paper down.”
He even tried to put a piece of paper in and get it back out with the fireplace tong-thingees and tried to move the logs around. I told him, “Never
again,” to which he responded, “I know what I”m doing!”
I knew it was time for a heart-to-heart so it wouldn’t turn into a hand-to-butt.
I asked him what he liked about the fireplace, then I told him that I liked the warmth and the way the flames looked as well. Then I told
him about the dangers of fire, including homes burning down and third-degree burns.
He appeared to listen intently but I can admit that
I may have gone over the line when I began to describe skin grafts. “They’ll take skin from here (pointing to his lower body) and they’ll put it here(pointing to his upper body).”
He was quiet by now and looking down. I thought he’d heard enough. But he’s our bold, headstrong child who needs as much gentle encouragement as he does firm direction and correction.
And, yes, I was that child. I was full of questions and truly thought that I knew more than my mother and father. I mean, they were old and were never young so what could they know?
Again, I know what you’re thinking, that old “payback” line. In my case, it’s coming true in the form of a rythmic, comedic, energetic eight-year-old.
But my husband and I are determined to stay on him and his older brother, whether they like it or not. And they certainly act like they don’t like it (“you never let me do this or that”), but I know they’ll appreciate it eventually. We have to stay on them. Otherwise, we’d turn them loose, half-baked, on you, the unsuspecting public.
That’s one reason I’m getting involved in an effort between my church and the ninth grade class at East Side High in East St. Louis. Because I know when I find candy wrappers stuffed under my bed or a “C” comes home on an assignment or someone crosses their arms in anger and stomps up to their room, I just want to snap. And I know that tomorrow morning, I’d rather sleep in a little longer than get up 45 minutes before they do to try to get myself together first. And how nice would it be to spend all my money on me instead of paying for piano lessons.
But I’m happy to realize that it’s not about me. It’s about taking what I have and giving it away, including my time and talents, in order to improve the situation for someone else and therefore everyone else.
This is a presidential election year, and while they are talking about the economy, terrorism and education, I’m listening. And I’m also talking about bedtime, homework, honesty, responsibility and turn off the TV and please pick up your pajamas on the bathroom floor!
I want my mentee at East Side to know that the push forward never stops, regardless of what level of success you might reach. There is always something like the beautiful but dangerous flames in a fireplace that can distract you and cause you to get off-track. I’m going to tell her that our group from church is committed to staying with them through graduation and beyond.
I’m going to tell her, just like my own children, that it’s understandable to think you know what you’re doing. But it’s a sign of maturity to realize that you, actually, don’t.