Yesterday

Yesterday M and I went out for one of her daily walks. As is her routine, she picked up a rock from one of the rock beds in front of our complex and then went and sat in the adjoining lawn to play with the dandelions and her rock. I stood behind her, watching and commenting on the things she was doing. I watched as two middle school aged boys walked up the sidewalk towards us. One of the boys picked up a rock from the rock bed as well as he talked to his friend. M noticed this as well. She stood up in the lawn, and held up her rock for the boys to see. The boys noticed her, and the one who picked up the rock held his up too and said “Cheers” to her. They then laughed at her and walked away. I realize their reactions were very age appropriate…almost like they were making fun of her. I instantly bridled and felt my mother instincts kick into high gear. I wanted to protect her from them. She didn’t know they were mocking/making fun of her, but I did. I have been made fun of in my life, and I know from personal experience that it is not a fun experience. I instantly wanted to protect her from that. I feel like I can’t get this experience off my mind. The world is such a cruel place, and as M’s mother I am preparing her to go forth into in. There is a part of me, though, that wants to just protect her from all the cruelties out there. I don’t want her to know the pain of being made fun of, and I certainly don’t ever want her to inflict that pain on another. I love her more than I could ever imagine, and it hurts to think that there is a big wide world out there that doesn’t feel the same way about my little girl. They haven’t been there for the sleepless nights, felt the joy of her first smile, or felt the sorrow of her first injury. She is our little girl. She is everything to us. It hurts to think that she will one day be hurt by others, that she will have to come to a knowledge of good and evil in her own life. I wish so much that I could protect her form that, but it is part of life and necessary for her to experience.

In contrast to all of this, I thought of the words of the savior as he said “Suffer the little children to come unto me…”. I thought of how it would be for me, as a mother, to watch my little girl walk to the savior. As I would watch her, I would know that she was going to someone who loved her as much, if not infinitely more than I do. I would know that she would be safe there, loved, and cherished for the special individual she is. I don’t know why this is bothering me so much. Maybe because it is the first time I have really experienced this. Maybe it’s pregnancy hormones. Maybe it’s my “mother bear” instincts coming out wanting to protect my little one from any potential threat. I know, though, that I cannot always be there. Part of being a parent is teaching and then letting them spread their wings. It’s just so hard!