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TO A CHILD
LOVE IS SPELLED
what a child really needs from you
MAC ANDERSON & LANCE WUBBELS
Motivational & Inspirational Gifts
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2004, 2006 by Mac Anderson and Koechel Peterson & Associates, Inc. Cover and internal design © 2013 by Sourcebooks, Inc. Sourcebooks, the colophon, and Simple Truths are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc. Cover and internal design by: Koechel Peterson & Associates, Inc. Minneapolis: MN Published by Simple Truths, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410 (630) 961-3900 : Fax: (630) 961-2168 www.sourcebooks.com Printed and bound in China. OGP 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2
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All that is worth cherishing in this world begins in the heart, not in the head.
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C O N T E N T S
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Castles Built on Sand
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Precious One
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Priceless
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Lost Yesterdays
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Priorities
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Time
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Brevity
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Love
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The Best Gift
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Stability
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Listening
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Power of One
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Encouragement
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Potential
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Relationships
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Traditions
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Values
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Friends
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Slow Down
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First Things First
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Possibilities
86
Entertainment
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Choices
88
Letting Go
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Strength
90
Surprises
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Perseverance
92
Teach
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Discipline
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Support
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The Greatest Gift
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Delight
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Responsibility
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Understanding
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Adversity
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Passing the Torch
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Moments
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Roots
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Mistakes
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Attitude
72
Trust
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Destiny
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Faith
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Keep Growing
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The Measure of Success
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About the authors
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Focus
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Laughter
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CASTLES
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B U I L T
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O N
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S A N D
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IN THE FAINT LIGHT of the attic, an old man, tall and stooped, bent his great frame and made his way to a stack of boxes that sat near one of the little half-windows. Brushing aside a wisp of cobwebs, he tilted the top box toward the light and began to carefully lift out one old photograph album after another. Eyes once bright but now dim searched longingly for the source that had drawn him here. It began with the fond recollection of the love of his life, long gone, and somewhere in these albums was a photo of her he hoped to rediscover. Silent as a mouse, he patiently opened the long buried treasures and soon was lost in a sea of memories. Although his world had not stopped spinning when his wife left it, the past was more alive in his heart than his present aloneness.
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Setting aside one of the dusty albums, he pulled from the box what appeared to be a journal from his grown son’s childhood. He could not recall ever having seen it before, or that his son had ever kept a journal. Why did Elizabeth always save the children’s old junk? he wondered, shaking his white head. Opening the yellowed pages, he glanced over a short reading, and his lips curved in an unconscious smile. Even his eyes brightened as he read the words that spoke clear and sweet to his soul. It was the voice of the little boy who had grown up far too fast in this very house, and whose voice had grown fainter and fainter over the years. In the utter silence of the attic, the words of a guileless six-year-old worked their magic and carried the old man back to a time almost totally forgotten.
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Entry after entry stirred a sentimental hunger in his heart like the longing a gardener feels in the winter for the fragrance of spring flowers. But it was accompanied by the painful memory that his son’s simple recollections of those days were far different from his own. But how different? Reminded that he had kept a daily journal of his business activities over the years, he closed his son’s journal and turned to leave, having forgotten the cherished photo that originally triggered his search. Hunched over to keep from bumping his head on the rafters, the old man stepped to the wooden stairway and made his descent, then headed down a carpeted stairway that led to the den. Opening a glass cabinet door, he reached in and pulled out an old business journal. Turning, he sat down at his desk and placed the
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two journals beside each other. His was leather-bound and engraved neatly with his name in gold, while his son’s was tattered and the name “Jimmy” had been nearly scuffed from its surface. He ran a long skinny finger over the letters, as though he could restore what had been worn away with time and use. As he opened his journal, the old man’s eyes fell upon an inscription that stood out because it was so brief in comparison to other days. In his own neat handwriting were these words: Wasted the whole day fishing with Jimmy. Didn’t catch a thing.
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With a deep sigh and a shaking hand, he took Jimmy’s journal and found the boy’s entry for the same day, June 4. Large scrawling letters, pressed deeply into the paper, read: Went fishing with my dad. Best day of my life.
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PRECIOUS ONE You get a knot in your throat whenever you say the words. “She’s my little girl . . . always will be my little girl.” “He’s my boy . . . my precious boy.”
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P R I C E L E S S
You thought you knew what love was before your child got into your heart.
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a hundred years from now it will not matter what my bank
account was, the sort of house i lived in, or the kind of car i drove . . .
but the world may be different because i was important
in the life of a child.
There is no limit, no measure, no end to this love. You belong . . . literally . . . to each other. That little girl is yours, and you are hers. That boy is priceless . . . the joy of your soul.
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If we take care of the moments, the years will take care of themselves. MARIA EDGEWO RTH
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LOST
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But far too often we fail to realize there’s a thief who works overtime to steal our time. Precious moments with our children . . . where did they go? Lost minutes stretch into hours, then days. Lost yesterdays pass away and become weeks and months. We look back and shake our heads in disbelief, wondering where the years went.
Y E S T E R D AY S 19
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priorities
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A hundred years from now, it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove. But the world may be different because I was important in the life of a child. FOREST E. WITCRAFT
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T I M E TIME IS THE RAW MATERIAL of your relationship with your child and must be guarded at all costs. It’s true what they say: a bucket with a hole in it gets just as empty as a bucket that is deliberately kicked over. Life will shout a thousand demands to take you away from time spent with your child. If you permit the urgent to rule, you will lose time you can never recover or catch with your hand. What happens in the changing life of your child today will never be repeated. All the gold in the world cannot buy back either the little delights of the day or the big pleasures that happen without announcement or a plan. You simply have to be there.
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You will never find the time to spend with your children. You have to make time and plan for it. There is no other possible way.
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B R E V I T Y
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“Life is but a breath,” so the Bible says. So take a deep breath, fill your lungs, and think about it. Poof! and it’s gone. “My days are swifter than a runner, they fly away,” said the Old Testament patriarch Job. And we can never catch them. We run out of breath.
Don’t put your children off, even if you’re tired. Don’t squelch the moment, even if it’s inconvenient. Nothing is more powerful than showing your love at the point of a felt need. Tomorrow they may not be asking for you. Life goes on, but children never stay the same.
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LOVE You can give without loving, but you can never love without giving.
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a hundred years from now it will not matter what my bank
account was, the sort of house i lived in, or the kind of car i drove . . .
Time, indeed, is a sacred gift, and each day is a little life.
but the world may be different because i was important JOHN LUBBOCK
in the life of a child.
T H E 28
B E S T
G I F T
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NO AMOUNT OF LOVE is too much for any child, and you cannot separate love from time spent together. The fact that you feel love for your children does not guarantee that they feel loved. They need to constantly hear you tell them “I love you” and see your love demonstrated in the small details of life. Give your child the best gift of all—yourself. That’s what they really want and need.
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