| General Non-Fiction posted June 14, 2022 |
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We all need the answer to ...
The Ultimate Question
by Wendy G
I Remember Contest Winner
I remember the brightness of his blue eyes, as he looked up at me with his big question.
My son was four years old, and he held my hand tightly as we walked back to the car-park. This was his first year of being alone all day with me, as both his older sisters were now at school.
"Mum, do you love me?"
"Of course I love you. I will always love you!" I declared.
"But will you ALWAYS love me?" he probed.
"Yes, I will ALWAYS love you!" I replied. I sensed his need to be affirmed as not just being loved as one of the children, but for himself.
"What if I am naughty?"
"I will still love you as a person – but I will correct your behaviour. I may have to teach you that some behaviour is not acceptable and will be punished. You need to learn to make wise decisions. But I will still love you!"
"What if I do VERY bad things? What if … what if I end up in jail?" That was the worst thing he could imagine.
This was a significant moment. I knew I would never forget it. I realized that I was sharing my whole life's philosophy with a four-year-old.
"I will always love you, even if you end up in jail. I will always love you because you are my child. I will always love you because God gave you to me to love."
He squeezed my hand. We paused. I continued.
"I will be sad if you end up in jail. It will mean you have made some bad choices. Maybe you have hurt some-one …. Yes, I will be sad that you have made bad decisions, but I will still love you." We continued walking.
"And I will also be sad you are in jail because I know you would be sad and lonely too."
He seemed satisfied.
I reflected that I had asked my mother that very same question when I was about his age.
Her answer was, "I love you when you're good!" It was meant as a form of behaviour control. I remember it as devastating. I remember to this day how disappointed I was. How good does a child have to be to merit love? So, love could be offered and then removed? Love was fragile?
No! My love for my children would not be conditional. It would be steadfast and unchanging.
Time passed.
I remember too that as a teacher I subtly offered the same philosophy to my students. They knew I cared about them as individuals – but that their behaviour had to be acceptable. They knew I would insist on my own standards of behaviour, but never humiliate them. Love the person, correct the behaviour.
One day Jim was being a little silly in class. I gave him 'the look', that unspoken warning which teachers do so well.
He continued to be a distraction. I paused. Usually a significant silence had effect. Not this time.
I said to him, "Jim, you know I gave you 'the look'. That was my warning. Please stop being silly. I don't accept that behaviour during my lessons."
Jim stopped misbehaving instantly and asked, "But you still love us, don't you Miss?"
I saw in his earnest thirteen-year-old blue eyes that same need of affirmation that I had seen in my four-year-old son.
"Of course I do. I will always accept and care for you as my students. But I also need to correct inappropriate behaviour, so that you don't spoil the lessons for the rest of us. You need to learn to make wise decisions."
He did. He always had a special place in my heart – and I in his. That's the reason I loved teaching. I cared about my students, all the time, unconditionally. And they knew it.
This ultimate question – and its answer – reminds me of how much reassurance we all need that we are loved. For ourselves. No matter how old we are. Love must be unconditional. No "ifs". No "whens". Just loved.
That's what gives us value, and a precious sense of self-worth.
I remember the brightness of his blue eyes, as he looked up at me with his big question.
My son was four years old, and he held my hand tightly as we walked back to the car-park. This was his first year of being alone all day with me, as both his older sisters were now at school.
"Mum, do you love me?"
"Of course I love you. I will always love you!" I declared.
"But will you ALWAYS love me?" he probed.
"Yes, I will ALWAYS love you!" I replied. I sensed his need to be affirmed as not just being loved as one of the children, but for himself.
"What if I am naughty?"
"I will still love you as a person – but I will correct your behaviour. I may have to teach you that some behaviour is not acceptable and will be punished. You need to learn to make wise decisions. But I will still love you!"
"What if I do VERY bad things? What if … what if I end up in jail?" That was the worst thing he could imagine.
This was a significant moment. I knew I would never forget it. I realized that I was sharing my whole life's philosophy with a four-year-old.
"I will always love you, even if you end up in jail. I will always love you because you are my child. I will always love you because God gave you to me to love."
He squeezed my hand. We paused. I continued.
"I will be sad if you end up in jail. It will mean you have made some bad choices. Maybe you have hurt some-one …. Yes, I will be sad that you have made bad decisions, but I will still love you." We continued walking.
"And I will also be sad you are in jail because I know you would be sad and lonely too."
He seemed satisfied.
I reflected that I had asked my mother that very same question when I was about his age.
Her answer was, "I love you when you're good!" It was meant as a form of behaviour control. I remember it as devastating. I remember to this day how disappointed I was. How good does a child have to be to merit love? So, love could be offered and then removed? Love was fragile?
No! My love for my children would not be conditional. It would be steadfast and unchanging.
Time passed.
I remember too that as a teacher I subtly offered the same philosophy to my students. They knew I cared about them as individuals – but that their behaviour had to be acceptable. They knew I would insist on my own standards of behaviour, but never humiliate them. Love the person, correct the behaviour.
One day Jim was being a little silly in class. I gave him 'the look', that unspoken warning which teachers do so well.
He continued to be a distraction. I paused. Usually a significant silence had effect. Not this time.
I said to him, "Jim, you know I gave you 'the look'. That was my warning. Please stop being silly. I don't accept that behaviour during my lessons."
Jim stopped misbehaving instantly and asked, "But you still love us, don't you Miss?"
I saw in his earnest thirteen-year-old blue eyes that same need of affirmation that I had seen in my four-year-old son.
"Of course I do. I will always accept and care for you as my students. But I also need to correct inappropriate behaviour, so that you don't spoil the lessons for the rest of us. You need to learn to make wise decisions."
He did. He always had a special place in my heart – and I in his. That's the reason I loved teaching. I cared about my students, all the time, unconditionally. And they knew it.
This ultimate question – and its answer – reminds me of how much reassurance we all need that we are loved. For ourselves. No matter how old we are. Love must be unconditional. No "ifs". No "whens". Just loved.
That's what gives us value, and a precious sense of self-worth.
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Writing Prompt Begin your non-fiction autobiographical story or poem with the words 'I remember...' Complete the sentence conveying a moment, an object, a feeling, etc. This does not have to be a profound memory, but should allow readers insight into your feelings, observations and/or thoughts. Use at least 100, but not more than 1,000 words. The count should be stated in your author notes. |
I Remember Contest Winner |
 Recognized |
694 words
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