Raising Kind Kids: Crossing Fingers for Kindness

My Little Poppies LLC is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases. Affiliate links from Amazon or other programs are used on this website. For more information, please refer to our disclosure statement.

For years, I maintained a journal of sorts. It was large and thick with a black cover and it contained oodles of blank pages just waiting to be filled. I did not write in it daily, but over the years I filled it with my favorite quotations, doodles, notes on gratitude, and memorable moments. That journal saw me through college, graduate school, and the first year of our marriage.

Then I had three kids in quick succession and I tucked it away in my attic for safe-keeping. I’m not sure I’ve thought about it since, to be honest. That is, until last night when T did something that made me utter one of my all-time favorite quotes -one that I had saved in that journal- aloud:

The best portion of a good man’s life:

his little nameless unremembered acts of kindness and love.

~ William Wordsworth

I feel like, as parents, we work so hard to raise kind kids. We teach our children empathy and kindness. We model friendship and kind acts. We talk about our feelings. We talk about the characters in the books we read: their conflicts, their emotions, and their perspectives. We demonstrate compassion for those around us; for people whom we are close to, but also for the strangers who cross our path during the course of each day: the store clerk, the bank teller, the mom who looks like she’s having a rough day, the gentleman who holds the door. We help our young children work through conflict. We discuss how others might be feeling in order to help them take another’s perspective. We do all these things from sun up until sun down, every day. And then we wait.

We wait, and we hope that we are doing enough. We second-guess ourselves and rethink our current strategy and perhaps tweak our game a bit. And of course we pray, or cross our digits, or perhaps we do both of these things, with the hope that these children of ours will practice kindness for the rest of their lives. We hope that they will go forth into the world and be kind to others when we aren’t standing by their side modeling and coaching and crossing those fingers. Because, really, it’s wonderful to be intelligent, or funny, or creative, or interesting, but kindness trumps them all.

When I think of all the things I want for my children, the list is long. But, if I have to boil it down, I want for them to be happy and kind. And, when I think about it, the kindest people I know are happy. So I really want for them to be kind.

Well, last night as the kids were getting ready for bed, I walked past Leo’s room and did a double-take. Leo’s room is always a mess. There are typically books all over the floor, notes, treasure piles, multiple projects-in-progress. But, last night, I found him reading a book on his bed in a spotless room. Not only was the floor clear, but the tops of his dresser and bookcase were also clean. No piles, no treasures, nada.

His room usually looks more like THIS.

“Leo! Wow! Your room looks fantastic!” the neat-freak in me gushed.

He rolled over and glanced at me over his book, “Yeah. T did it.”

“T cleaned your room?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “And she wrote ‘I love you, Leo’ on my marker board. She did the same thing for Seuss. It was a surprise.”

I stepped out into the hall and peeked into Seuss’ room. Clean. And I smiled when I saw the “I love you” notes on both boys’ doors.

When I went into T’s room to say goodnight to her, I told her that she is kind. And that Schizz and I are proud of her. And that the boys are lucky to have her as their sister. Because she is, and we are, and they are. T is a kid that I don’t worry about when it comes to kindness, because she was born kind. We could all take a lesson from her, self included. As I’ve said before, the world needs more Ts in it.

I leaned in to give her a hug and she whispered in my ear, “I did it as a surprise. And I didn’t say anything about it. Because that’s kindness.” She had the biggest smile on her face. She was so happy. I instantly thought of the Wordsworth quote that I love, and of my abandoned journal in the attic above T’s bedroom. And, for the first time in six years, I wanted to add a quote to it: T’s quote.

Our Little Mumma: lovin’ on Linda and the rest of the world.

Then I walked into Leo’s room and gave him a kiss goodnight and he said, “You wanna know something funny? I didn’t even notice that T cleaned up my room! Seuss told me! Isn’t that funny?” Seuss, who until that point had been sitting on Leo’s floor reading, erupted into a fit of giggles. And then he chucked the book he was reading into the air. Both boys dissolved into complete silliness. “Did you guys thank your sister for her kindness?” I asked.