Ever since Emry’s first Valentine’s, Ed has got each of the kids a helium balloon to celebrate the day. This year, of course, Ellyson received her first balloon. Since it arrived at a time in her life when just about everything is fair game (she can scoot her way to whatever she pleases and is just starting to crawl a bit), I can’t say she found it anymore interesting than the blocks her siblings were playing with two feet away. You know how it goes: whatever toy the other kid has must be better than your own.
The following morning was a Monday. Those can be a little rough as we come off the weekend and must get back on schedule with school, etc. Emry wasn’t too combative as I called her into her room to start her schoolwork, but about a half hour later when I went to retrieve my phone so I could time her math speed test, I realized differently. Ellyson’s balloon was on the floor in the living room. When I picked it up to figure out how it had lost its helium so quickly, it was fairly easy to spot the hole that had been obviously cut in the front of it. And since I know Ethan is merely annoying when angry while Emry can be vindictive…well, I didn’t have to go far to find the culprit. She didn’t even deny it. Although she couldn’t tell me what had made her do it.
At first, I was a bit angry. Why in the world would she intentionally put a hole in Ellyson’s balloon? It’s not like Ellyson is of an age that she did something first. But I quickly realized when questioning her that she really didn’t seem to know why she had done it. It wasn’t really pre-meditated as much as she was angry at having to start school, Ellyson’s balloon was in the living room, she knew where her scissors were…and that was that. And that just made me sad. Really, really sad.
Ever since she was an infant, Emry has been very in tune with my emotions. And my being sad is the one thing that will flip her to repentance. When I told her how sad her actions made me, she nearly started to cry. I could have easily left it there, but God granted me one of those rare moments of parental wisdom, so I sat down with her and explained how actions like putting a hole in Ellyson’s balloon can make a lot of people sad. It made me sad. It made Jesus sad. And it made Ellyson sad. (Not really, but that Ellyson no longer had a balloon to play with like Ethan and Emry is sad.) I told Emry that the things we do don’t just affect us, but they can affect lots of people. They can hurt lots of people. And when we do wrong, Jesus is always hurt.
Emry was very sorry for what she had done. She dashed off to make it right. (Which in her world means drawing Ellyson another balloon on paper, cutting it out, and adding a string – all of which she taped to the wall.) When Ellyson got up from her nap, I had to set her near the “balloon” so Emry could show it to her and ask if she liked it. Again, I don’t Ellyson cared one way or the other, but she cooed happily because Emry was paying her attention and that made Emry happy.
It certainly won’t be the last time Emry hurts Ellyson in some way. In the very near future, the tables will turn and Ellyson will hurt Emry. They’re human and they’re sisters. But, hopefully, this Valentine’s lesson will bear fruit….for Emry and for me.
Sisters and Balloons
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