THE NEW DOMESTICITY
the
NEW DOMESTICITY
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Something
Kifornd
Someone Else By Julianna Lawson
The lawn shot up well past our shins, but we were blissfully ignorant of the work that lay before us. Our friends would soon be moving in down the street, and we had concocted a grand plan: we would mow their lawn before they arrived! With remarkable ambition, we steered our dad’s push-mower down the street. The jolly, whirring blades echoed from the pavement, announcing our scheme to the neighborhood. Yet when we reached our verdant destination, we quickly realized that our tiny bodies could hardly wield such a machine through even a manicured lawn, much less a veritable jungle. Undaunted, we sought out some neighbor friends. Could we please borrow their gas-powered mower? We were determined. Soon we were up and running, forcing the noisy mower up and down aisle after aisle of grass. My brother, sister, and I took turns, delighted with the plan to welcome our friends. As I recall, the finished product was less than satisfactory, even in the eyes of a 10-year-old. Yet we were still proud. And our friends? I’m sure they noticed the uneven lines, the irregular sprouts of greenery . . . and the final, inevitable stretch where we ran out of gas. Literally. But, dear friends that they were, they were absolutely delighted by our gesture. I wish I could remember more details of our adventure, but the facts that do stand out in my mind tell a greater story. They tell of my parents’ teaching, a teaching which invited my siblings and me to consider the things we might do for others. They tell of the freedom my siblings and I were given: a freedom to do big, hard things, even though the adults in our lives could undoubtedly foresee a less-than-perfect outcome. And, in a sweet way, this story was still a story of success. Looking back with adult eyes, I’m keenly aware that we didn’t surprise our friends with a beautiful lawn. But they sure did feel loved and welcomed by the three
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little ragamuffins with mile-wide grins and grass-stained knees. As we approach the halfway point of summer, it’s likely that the kiddos in our homes—especially those who are temporarily bereft of the blessed routine of school—are getting just a little bit . . . b-o-r-e-d. Here is an opportunity to invite our children to think beyond the threat of ennui; here is an opportunity to invite our children to think of the big and even hard things they might do for others. With modeling from parents, paired with timely, practical suggestions, our children will gain the tools they need to discover ways in which they might help those around them. As always, I appreciate the subtle words of advice dispensed by many classic works of children’s literature. Reading them aloud to our kids is a very simple, practical way to inspire “good deeds” in even our youngest children, and perhaps even ourselves. In the area of service, especially, well-chosen books invite our child to step into the world of other children and see a host of possibilities. Through Betsy, for example, Maud Hart Lovelace portrays the beauty of helping a sibling. “[Betsy] came downstairs Saturday morning with red eyes . . . Remembering all the precepts about doing something kind for someone else when you’re feeling down in the mouth, [Betsy] offered to help Margaret dye Easter eggs.” In “Jack and Jill,” by Louisa May Alcott, we read of the industrious children who learn to take pleasure in homey tasks, and in so doing, become a blessing to others. “[Merry] watered her flowers, dusted the furniture, and laid the fire ready for kindling; and, when all was done, she stood a minute to enjoy the pleasant room, full of spring sunshine, fresh air, and exquisite order. It seemed to give her heart for more distasteful labors, and she fell to work at the pies as cheerfully as if she liked it.”
Vancouver Family Magazine • www.vancouverfamilymagazine.com • July 2019
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