A Lesson Learned

I was seven years old when my mother had her ninth child. My oldest brother was ten. It would not be an understatement to say that my mother had her hands full. Something else happened when I was seven years old. That was the year I learned a very important lesson about love.

I was in the second grade and that was the year I was supposed to learn to read, but I didn't. My teacher had a huge class and no one to assist her and if that wasn't bad enough she had me for a student. It wasn't that I didn't try, I tried, I really did, but I still couldn't seem to learn to read. I became a target for her frustration. All through the day she would call attention to the fact that I was failing to read, or spell, which meant I wasn't doing well at writing either. Sometimes I would forget to be on my guard and I would suck my fingers in an effort to find comfort. That never worked very well because then she would have the class look at me and that brought no comfort only more ridicule.

Some people have asked me, “Where was your mother?” My mother was at home with a new baby and a two year and a three year old and a four year old, need I say more. Not only that but it never occurred to me to even tell my mother what was going on. I was only seven and this was only my second year in school I thought this was just the way life was. It was my teacher who called Mother. She just couldn't take my ignorance any longer!

I remember sitting in the hallway when my mother was talking to the teacher. I was swinging my feet because they didn't touch the floor and, yes, I was sucking my fingers. When Mother came out of the office her face was very sad. She was silent for a long time. Finally, Mother looked at me and began to speak. “Sarah, I want you to pay very close attention to what I am about to say.” I leaned a little closer to my mother. “Sarah, I know you want everyone to like you and you try really hard to make that happen.” I shook my head, yes. “Your teacher doesn't like you and it's not your fault and you can't make her like you.” This information set me free but the next thing she said gave me an anchor. “Although your teacher doesn't like you, I love you. Nothing you do will ever make me love you more. Nothing you do will ever make me love you less. My love for you isn't based on your performance.”

Dear Heavenly Father, thank You for giving my mother the wisdom and the words she needed. She did what she could and it was enough. Thank You for giving me a mother who showed me what Your love looks like. “How great is the love the Father lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!” 1 John 3:1 And to think I did nothing to deserve that lavish love.