And Today's Lesson Is...
by Catie Gosselin of WomanLinks.com

It's cold, it's blustery, it's raining......it's November in New England! This is the kind of weather where you toss another sweater on top of the two you are already wearing, and you're still chilled to the bone.

If this sounds less than inviting, well, it is. Nevertheless, I chose to venture out in search of groceries tonight. Thinking the greatest obstacle, driving in this weather, was overcome, I tramped into the store. I bundled my sodden umbrella into the carriage, exhaled audibly with relief that my kids were at home with my husband. I could knock off the shopping in no time, without weighing every item in the produce section, identifying all the flags in the International food section, or provide interesting race car noises when I turned the aisle.

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Just as I'm settling into my fierce bargain-hunting mode, the loudest blood-curdling cry emanated from aisle 3. Condiments can be a little daunting, but not enough so to warrant this type of a howling. Surely, someone must be undergoing surgery without anesthesia! I turned the corner to find a little peanut of a girl, with a voice the size of Andre the Giant, screeching at the top of her lungs, as a young man, uninterested, stared at her. I looked around in hopes of finding this girl's parents, only to find the young man was her father. Well, kids have bad days, mine have had their share in public places too, so I went about my business. 

Although I was intent on tracking down bread crumbs, I kept running into this family. Of course I would hear them well before seeing them, but no matter where I went, they were there. It was like an episode of the Twilight Zone. Turns out this little girl had a brother and a baby sister. The two older kids were running and screaming up and down the aisles as if they were in a football field. Mom was opening up deli sandwiches and eating them while shopping, Dad looked like he wanted to be somewhere else. Hey, I've had bad days too, I can empathize.

On my way to the checkout, the kids ran full tilt down the aisle and threw themselves on the floor in front of my carriage. As I put on my best polite mom voice, 'Excuse me sweetie, but I need you to get up,' Dad slowly followed, hurling a series of expletives, instructing them to get off the #*$% floor and knock off the &$* behavior right now. Okay...it's getting harder to be understanding, but hey for all I know he's Father of Year at home.

I'm paying for my groceries, and this family shows up AGAIN. All the kids are stashed in the carriage, and Mom is unloading several bottles of wine, ice cream and every frozen junk food produced. The little girl begins to whine that she is hungry, to which Mom replies 'just shut up, you're not having an ice cream cone.' The little boy pushes his sister, and promptly receives Mom's backhand along with instructions not to push. I take my receipt with my jaw on the floor. It is hard shopping with young kids, but nothing justifies this, I think.

Outside, in the pouring rain, in the wind, in the dark, I load my groceries, stunned by what I've just seen. I hop into the car, crank up the heat and pop open a bottle of Fruitopia, only to see them again. This time, two cars down from me. Not one child is wearing a coat, has an umbrella or any sort of covering, and they are standing in the pouring rain, at night in 40 degrees. Mom and Dad have coats. Mom and Dad have lots and lots of wine. Mom already ate her dinner in aisle 8. The only thing between these kids and the cold rain are threadbare jerseys that are about a size too small. 

The absolute anger and self-righteousness I felt at that moment could have fueled a 747. Everyone knows when you have children, you provide for them first. If the parents go without, so be it, but children first, every time, all the time....right? If they are hungry, they get the food. If they need shoes, hell, find a way to make your own winter boots last another season and clothe your children. If they are sick, you use your last dime to get them care. That is what parents are supposed to do.

I had all the answers, and I was going to set them straight.  Unfortunately, while I was seething, they drove away. 

So, besides a heck of a lot of anger, what was I supposed to get by constantly running into these people? I do not believe in coincidences, so surely, I kept bumping into them for a reason. As I calmed down, it became blatantly obvious the point was not to illustrate what a model parent I am, or how lacking this couple was in their parenting skills.

The point comes down to gratitude. Plain and simple. I have a safe, warm car that took me to my home, where my healthy, clothed and fed children were cared for lovingly by the most decent, kind man I have ever met. We don't live in a huge house, but it's big enough for our needs. We don't live in an exclusive neighborhood, but there are no bullets flying or bombs dropping here. My husband has a job, and earns enough so that I can stay home to care for and school my children. I have made my own workplace that fills my soul. I have friends on and off line that fill my heart. I have so much. 

What I do not have, however, is the right to put my judgments on the people I saw tonight. But for the grace of God, there go I. 

I can offer prayers of hope for those children, that sometime in their lives they know love, warmth and kindness. I can pray they go to bed with full bellies and warm clothes. I can pray they have a mentor or teacher to shows them the importance of learning as well as speaking their truth. I can pray the very, very young parents somehow fill the holes in their own souls and see each other, and their children, as gifts.

Just when you think you have it all down, and there is nothing more to know, the Powers That Be ring the bell for school to begin. 

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