At
the store just this last week, I heard a young child crying and
happened to see her down the aisle with a man whom I assumed to be
her father. The man was bouncing her up and down and trying to
comfort her.
“Oh
yes, I know. It’s sooo hard to be one and a half. “
She
probably couldn’t understand the sarcasm, so hopefully the
words felt like support to her. Because she did understand the words
and it is hard to be one and a half.
They
are helpless. They can barely talk. So they cry a lot. Heck, they
can’t even remember most things. They’re incapable of
logical thinking.
Put
yourself in the place of a newborn. You must be carried around by
someone else. You aren’t paralyzed, but you don’t know
how to make your hands grab things when you want them to. You don’t
even know how to control your lips and tongue, let alone form words.
For
that matter, you can’t even understand the language. There is
lots of unfamiliar information to process. For some reason, the
high-pitched sounds are more coherent than the low-pitched ones, so
those are the ones you pay more attention to.
You
have a fun time or some epiphany about how to walk and know by now
that you won’t remember it the next day. (I have a specific
memory of trying to inventory all I knew, while I was playing with
blocks, and promising myself that this time, I wouldn't forget it.
Years later, I told my mom and described the place. It happened to
be the apartment we lived in when I was barely two.)
If
things happen over and over again you'll remember them and may start
to predict what might happen based on what just happened. This allows
you to control your own body.
You
do know facial expressions. You know when someone is paying attention
to you, and smiling and modeling facial expressions so you can
practice. You know when they’re ignoring you, or are angry at
you (and you don’t know why, so it must just be you), or their
arms aren’t cuddly but stiff as they hold you.
You
feel hunger, loneliness, fear, and frustration. You don’t know
how to communicate those, but your feelings also don’t hide
themselves. You just cry. You don’t try to. You can barely
control your body. It cries when it feels those things.
But,
you also feel satisfaction, love, security, and triumph over success.
Finally, finally! You grabbed the toy that hangs frustratingly in
front of you every time your mother or father puts you in that
snuggly chair and you don’t see them for long, long periods of
time.
The
lifetime of a child stretches back behind him in his mind, as long as
yours stretches behind you. So time is slow. You’d be amazed at
how patient children are, within their frame of reference.
The
feelings infants and children have are intense — perhaps more
intense than adult feelings, since there is no buffer of experience
and they have no control over them.
One
thing that’s interesting about newborns is that the parts of
the brain that process sensory information are not yet fully
developed. There are too many connections and information doesn’t
always get to the right place in the brain. A newborn may smell a
color, or see a noise.
They
experience the world so very differently from us it is almost alien.
But it is not a lesser experience than our adult understanding.
And
it is certainly not less important than adult experience.
If
anything, the moments of early childhood are more important than
those of adulthood.
The
work of the child is to learn all he needs to know to become a
contributing adult in our society of eternal beings in transition.
So.
That's the thought that crossed my mind — not quite as wordy —
when I heard the parent comforting his toddler. Maybe, hopefully, he
wasn’t being sarcastic, but understood just how hard it really
is to be young.
One
of the root causes of many of society’s ills is that we do not
value our children enough. It is a cultural trait that runs so deep
we do not grasp how warped our attitudes towards children and family
life are.
I
believe a major factor was the celibacy that occurred in monasteries
during medieval times and was inherited by the educational
institutions run by clergy. Learning and scholarship were sterile
endeavors, outside the realm of family life and certainly not to be
disturbed by children.
These
childless and wifeless men were the philosophers who shaped western
thought. Oh, what a wicked turn that was.
And
Jesus called a little child unto him, and set him in the midst of
them,
And
said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as
little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.
Whosoever
therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is
greatest in the kingdom of heaven.
And
whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me.
(Matthew 18:2-5)
I
think it means more to humble ourselves as a little child than being
teachable — though that is essential. I think it means that
among other false dominions we should abandon, we must view children
as equals who only require guidance in this new place they’ve
come into.
It’s
hard to be one and a half, or five or ten or fifteen, twenty-five or
forty, sixty, ninety. Age, by itself, does not change how hard our
lives are.
We
should stop thinking we’re more important by virtue of our age
or experience or knowledge. We are not more important than anybody.
And there is no one we should lift ourselves above.
This
isn’t easy for our natural brains. Being the alpha, secure in
power is our inclination.
But
I know that with the help of the Savior — the servant of us all
— we can begin to humble ourselves and strive to serve rather
than rule over our children.
Ami Chopine started out her mortal existence as a single cell. That cell divided into a collection
of cells that cooperated enough to do such things as eat, crawl, walk and eventually read a lot
and do grownuppy things.
When she was seven years old, hanging upside down on the monkey bars, she decided she
wanted to be a scientist when she grew up. Even though she studied molecular biology at the
University of Utah, that didn't quite come to pass. She became a writer instead. Still, her passion
for science and honest inquiry has remained and married itself to her love of the Gospel.
Ami is married to Vladimir and together they have four amazing children -- three in college and
one in elementary school, where Ami is president of the Family School Organization. Vladimir
is the better cook, but Ami is the better baker. She also knits, gardens, stares at clouds, and sings.
She can only do three of these at the same time.
Besides two published computer graphics books and several magazine tutorials, she writes
science fiction and has a couple of short stories published. You can find her blog at
www.amichopine.com.
Ami was surprised to not be given a calling as some kind of teacher the last time she was called
into the bishop's office. She currently serves as the Young Women Secretary -- somewhat
challenging for the girl whose grandmother used to call the absentminded professor.