To whom much is given, much is required – Luke 12:48
It’s a beautiful Saturday morning and my little man and I head to Belmont Elementary School to volunteer with the Arby’s Foundation for Make a Difference Day – who knew! The plan is to help stuff lunches for school children and then head back home. Well, when we showed up, this was not the case.
I do believe I read the email wrong . . . record scratches. I should have brought my yard gloves and left the first born at home – so here we go.
There were plans to paint a courtyard, clear a trail, plant a garden, and other “do good” projects. This may be too much. Perhaps we should go home? Nope.
I immediately thought – this is an opportunity to sow seeds and teach the little one the importance of giving back. So we literally dug in to give back.
Borrowed yard gloves. Check. Rake. Check. Kid at my side. Double check. And then we proceeded to clear the trail – a 5-year-old and 39-year-old along with a host of other people making a difference.
Now, as I mentioned in previous posts (see Boy Lessons), the first born is a helper at heart. He will rake, pull, and push, if you let him. He doesn’t realize that he’s a little kid. But this is a quality that I love about him-always willing to help.
At a very young age we learn from our “village.” From the way we talk, think, and carry ourselves to how we learn about the world, our impact in it, and giving back. I actually remember at a young age, my mom always helping, even when she couldn’t, and she still does to this day.
This is what sowing seeds and giving back is all about. Even when you can’t, still make an attempt to do good. And this is what I want to teach my kids.
We were tired at the end of the day but thankful for the opportunity. A huge thank you to my sister from another mister @creativityflows19 who invited us to this awesome day.
EVERYONE knew my son by the end of the day because he literally went around and just about helped every person he saw. And I’d like for him to stay that way :o)
Because the sun always comes out after the rain. . .