Unlike most children, who obsess with sports, dress-up, and candy, I
obsessed with books. What hours could've been filled with playing house
and doctor, I spent huddled up in my top bunk with this book or that
book. But, like most children, I was prone to break down into a fit when
things didn't go my way.
The first and only temper tantrum that I can vividly recall pertains to the children's book "I Am A Puppy". I had been dutifully put to bed, and classically pulled my blanket over my head, produced a flashlight, and continued to read. A marvelous tale, my favorite at the time, about the whims of a pup. A few times I managed to avoid detection by clicking off the light and pretending to sleep, but alas, I was caught; the book was taken away from me.
That's all it took.
I screamed in a foreign language, known as nonsense. I threw first my pillows, followed by my stuffed animals, then the blankets, and even the sheets. I climbed down from my bunk and tossed toys and games and everything in my path, demanding my book. My momma said nothing during this tantrum; instead, she quietly departed from my room for a moment and returned with garbage bags. I didn't understand her intentions until she started depositing my belongings into these bags.
"No! Stop! I need those!" I whined.
"Apparently not, the way you threw them aside. If you can't appreciate these things we have offered, I'll give them to someone who will," she replied.
Stunned, I sunk to the floor and begged, "No please! I'll do anything for them!!"
"Then you will work."
That first night I slept with nothing and wept. No pillows for comfort, no blankets for warmth, no stuffies to console me. (Later, my mom told me that night was one of the most difficult moments in her parenting career. I think it was her finest.) The next morning, my momma introduced me to her regime of earning back my things. It was simple: Each chore around the house was worth varying amounts of points. Once I got ten points, I could choose one item from those garbage bags to reclaim. In order to regain "I Am A Puppy", I needed 50 points.
No other moment in my life so far can compare to the impact the days following this incident had on me, relative to the true value of possessions. I started with a blanket, then a pillow, and a sheet. I worked for each trinket and each bauble. And eventually earned the items I wanted, including the book that started it all.
At the time, all I can remember is how humbled I felt. Knowing how
easily my things could be taken away from me, with little cause or
concern. As an adult, I can pinpoint this memory as the moment I began
to understand character. Things like selfishness, and gratitude, and
hard work.
The first and only temper tantrum that I can vividly recall pertains to the children's book "I Am A Puppy". I had been dutifully put to bed, and classically pulled my blanket over my head, produced a flashlight, and continued to read. A marvelous tale, my favorite at the time, about the whims of a pup. A few times I managed to avoid detection by clicking off the light and pretending to sleep, but alas, I was caught; the book was taken away from me.
That's all it took.
I screamed in a foreign language, known as nonsense. I threw first my pillows, followed by my stuffed animals, then the blankets, and even the sheets. I climbed down from my bunk and tossed toys and games and everything in my path, demanding my book. My momma said nothing during this tantrum; instead, she quietly departed from my room for a moment and returned with garbage bags. I didn't understand her intentions until she started depositing my belongings into these bags.
"No! Stop! I need those!" I whined.
"Apparently not, the way you threw them aside. If you can't appreciate these things we have offered, I'll give them to someone who will," she replied.
Stunned, I sunk to the floor and begged, "No please! I'll do anything for them!!"
"Then you will work."
That first night I slept with nothing and wept. No pillows for comfort, no blankets for warmth, no stuffies to console me. (Later, my mom told me that night was one of the most difficult moments in her parenting career. I think it was her finest.) The next morning, my momma introduced me to her regime of earning back my things. It was simple: Each chore around the house was worth varying amounts of points. Once I got ten points, I could choose one item from those garbage bags to reclaim. In order to regain "I Am A Puppy", I needed 50 points.
No other moment in my life so far can compare to the impact the days following this incident had on me, relative to the true value of possessions. I started with a blanket, then a pillow, and a sheet. I worked for each trinket and each bauble. And eventually earned the items I wanted, including the book that started it all.
