All I Want For Christmas.

Earlier this month I was thinking about posting all these things I was finding on etsy and at Anthropologie that I was loving for Christmas. I never got around to it.

And today, I honestly, had no plans {or time} for blogging.

But something happened this morning and my heart has been hurting all day over it and I just have to get my words out.

So here goes.

Growing up, every single year for Christmases, birthdays, Mother's Day, Father's Day, you name it, my parents asked for happy, content children.

I used to scoff at the request.

When you're little and you've got a few dollars burning a hole in your pocket this is NOT what you want to hear. You want to hear what you can buy and wrap up and watch them open.

I get it now, and I long for that for my children.

To be content. To realize the blessings they have. To be thankful for what they've got instead of always thinking of more or bigger or better.

But I'm taking it one further.

I want to teach my kids empathy. I want them to see beyond themselves. To feel for those around them. To reach out to those who need a friend.

I helped in M's class today. The fourth graders were making Christmas trees with hangers, tinsel and strings of lights. T did this project two years ago and his tree still stands in our living room window. It's a pretty neat craft.

Eighty fourth graders in a room, four or five teachers and a handful of parents. I sat with M and her friends. A giddy, bubbling group of girls. I was helping M with her lights and then I saw this little girl all alone. Quietly sitting away from most of the others and then I saw her arm raised and her eyes darting around as though she didn't want anyone to see her but she needed help.

I walked over and asked her if she needed help. She nodded yes. I sat and helped her while a couple of M's friends stared.

I made small talk with her while I helped her with her lights and offered her M's leftover tinsel since she had none.

I know barely anything about this little girl.

I don't know if she's a new kid in town or if she used to be a meanie. I don't know if she's just a quiet girl or if she's quiet because she's been made fun of so much but I do know that today, she was sad. She was withdrawn and left out and it made me so sad.

And I left school with watery eyes just thinking about how it would feel to think about one of my kids left out and alone at school like that.

I haven't even talked to M about it yet but I plan to.

All day long this little girl has sat on my heart.

And I wanted to make it better. Different. Right.

I admit I've done my share of making fun and being exclusive throughout my life. And I've fallen victim to both being made fun of {anyone remember telling me I walk like a duck?} and being left out too.

Neither of which I remember or look back on fondly.

But my grown up self can handle it now and make good adult choices now about how I treat others, how others treat me and also about being inclusive.

But thinking, just thinking, about one of my kids as the little girl I saw today, breaks my heart.

So in addition to happy, healthy, content children, I've got just one more thing to add. A heart for others.

May J and I, as parents, live our lives in such a way that our kids are empathetic towards others. That their hearts hurt for those that are hurting and that they want to make things right.

Give me your eyes for just one second

Give me your eyes so I can see

Everything that I keep missing

Give me your love for humanity

Give me your arms for the broken hearted

The ones that are far beyond my reach

Give me your heart for the one's forgotten

Give me your eyes so I can see -Brandon Heath

{As an aside, I want to clarify that I don't necessarily think M did anything wrong today and in no way am I saying, she isn't empathetic. She has a great big heart, but today's situation made it even more clear to me of how important it is to teach our children the value of caring for others.}