Lessons in Virtue from Children
By Thandi Chindove,
I have never felt less qualified than whenever I walk into a room of children. All of my education seems to go out the window as I look down into each little face. Over the past few years, I have been transitioning out of the fast-paced, cutthroat world of journalism which has given me fewer bragging rights but a greater sense of peace. I lost my sense of direction and seem to have found it again in teaching the youngest people among us. Teaching is not where I would have placed myself, so I firmly believe it was God taking the reins from my hands. I now walk into rooms where the only sounds are other educators singing nursery rhymes to enraptured toddlers, kindergarteners telling endless stories about their pets, and babies crying for attention.
Every parent can attest to the disarming nature of dealing with children. They are deeply complex and also alarmingly simple. People in whom tantrums and forgiveness are separated by little more than a moment.
Before I entered the world of early childhood teaching, my exposure to children was severely limited. My previous interactions had taught me that children are brutally honest and I found that intimidating. I would often feel the fear of rejection creep up on me when I approached a child. With more experience, I soon learnt that there was nothing more disarming than a child’s smile or the moment when you cease to be a stranger and they sit in your lap or ask you to play with them.
In Matthew’s Gospel Jesus reveals the mystery of childlike simplicity. When the disciples turn away the children being brought to the Lord, He makes it clear how precious these people are to Him: “But Jesus said, “Let the children come to me, and do not prevent them; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these” (Matthew 19:14).
In reading this exchange, I have often understood the call to childlike surrender but missed the actual children. It’s only in this current stage of my life, where I am entrusted with other people’s children, that I am beginning to grasp what Jesus meant. The many parents of the world have long been aware of the simple joy of a child’s presence. There is also a deep richness to be found in the character of a child; virtues and qualities that I am striving to practice each day.
They Delight
I have rarely felt as delighted in as when I walked into a room full of babies during my first teaching placement. They were all under two years old; those who could walk smiled and raced up to me with shaky steps, while those who couldn’t followed me with their eyes until I came to greet them. They would stretch out their arms with trust and rest their heads comfortably on my shoulder before going back to whatever they were up to when I arrived.
In adulthood we are often taught to be measured with our emotions. This can make giving and receiving displays of affection difficult as they may stir up negative feelings of anxiety and insecurity. In this sense, we may be focusing on our own shortcomings which we can hide from our peers but not children. Young people have an innate ability to see things as they are and as they reach adolescence they begin to think in more nuanced patterns. During the early years they may strip us of our defenses and leave us feeling exposed. This reminds me of when Adam and Eve hid from God in the Garden of Eden (Genesis 3:8), and when St. Peter told Jesus to leave him because he was a sinful man (Luke 5:8). As we know in our heads but may often fail to believe, God is not a threat. When we encounter Him it can be intimidating. It is impossible to hide from His gaze (Psalm 139) but again, His gaze is not a threat. He sees us as we are and He delights in the opportunity to embrace us. Similarly, children see us as we are with an enthusiasm and warmth that imitates the Father. I have found that this delight can be the highlight of my day, making it easier to delight in others. A well timed hug or a smile where appropriate can be the blessing that someone needs in their day.
They Wonder
I was with a group of kindergarten children when we found a yellow ladybird (otherwise known as a ladybug) in the garden. A group of kindergarten children stood around me in the garden, amazed by how small a yellow ladybird was as it walked across my palm. The braver children volunteered to hold it and each time before it was passed on I would remind them how delicate it was. This interaction with the children made it one of the greatest events of my early teaching experience. Their sense of wonder was contagious and it gave me the ability to look at the tiny creature we were marvelling at with a greater respect. It reminded me of summers spent chasing rainbows or picking mulberries with my cousins. Children are a reminder of the need to live in the present moment. This is more than a mindfulness exercise, it’s a practice of deep listening. Taking even just one moment to see something we would otherwise miss. Fewer things will be new for us as we get older, but we should always make time to wonder at the joy of each moment.
They Trust
I’m currently working with children with various levels of intellectual disability. This demographic has taught me the most about trust. Some children are quite independent and high functioning while others are nonverbal and may need one-on-one care. Like all children, they are learning, growing, and trying to navigate the world. While 15% of the world’s population live with a disability, the world is designed for able-bodied or neuro-typical people. The very young children who are in my care rely on me to answer their needs. Similarly, the children with more complex needs also rely on me to know them, to understand them, to read the emotions behind their behaviour. This kind of trust is beyond my own comprehension and so I always try to respond with dignity. This in turn pushes me closer to God: As the children remind me every day that they need my help, they keep me grounded as I ask Jesus for the grace I need to help them.
I am humbled by the hearts of children which rarely grow cold or guarded and I wonder: if they can be so open to me, then how can I be more open to God. It would be remiss to write so much about what I’ve learnt from children without mentioning St. Thérèse of Lisieux who paved the childlike way of spirituality for so many of us. In her autobiography, Story of A Soul, she writes, "Jesus has chosen to show me the only way which leads to the Divine Furnace of love; it is the way of childlike self-surrender, the way of a child who sleeps, afraid of nothing, in his father's arms."
I know I still have a long way to go on this journey and these children will continue to show me glimpses of heaven. In the face of daily challenges, each trial is an opportunity for humility, for grace, and reaching out for the hand of God.
