The world doesn't embrace shy children. Nor does it celebrate the quiet and sensitive ... rather, the extroverts are noticed. "Class participation" is even given a grade in school. It's the job of families to love such children for who they are and who they'll become. The village can help, but it takes the love of family and home to nurture, encourage and wait on a quiet one to emerge.
My son Mark was such a little boy. He hid behind my legs and rarely uttered a word to strangers. But he came alive at home: a racing, tumbling jumble of a boy who loved wrestling with his dad and brothers.
It took a few years for Mark to shed his reticence. I believe there was a sort of brewing going on inside him: a quiet building of a maturity far beyond his years. He is still a young man of few words.
Today, my youngest son turns 22 years old. He is a senior in college and last summer married a beautiful young woman, Jill. He juggles classes, marriage and a job here in town. He truly loves hard work and planning for the future. If Mark's assigned a task, it's as good as done. In this photo, notice his weary face, having spent 30 straight hours plowing snow this weekend.
Imagine. My quiet little boy. Which just goes to show. God fashions our children for unique purposes and gives them to us for a time. For protection, nurturing and finally, release.
Happy birthday, Mark! Love you.
2 comments:
No wonder Mark and Ben did homework together at my house. The quiet sons are special indeed! :)
Happy birthday, Mark!!! This year, I wish you SLEEP!
Yes, they are!
Another snowstorm is bearing down on us ... oh, dear.
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