I’m currently home in Montana visiting my family. The first few days I stayed with my sister, Beth, her husband, Bill, and their three kids (Abby, 6, David, 3, Levi, 1). One afternoon we took the kiddos to play at the park. We had a great time swinging on the tire swing (’til David thought he was gonna throw up), zipping on the zipline, sliding down slides, and running all over laughing on a beautiful, sunny, August afternoon in Montana (seriously, I love MT this time of year!!!).
It was time to go home and Abby and David were climbing around on a piece of playground equipment. This particular piece has a fireman pole at the very top and David wanted to go down the fireman pole before we left. He asked me if I would help him and I said yes. He started to climb up the ladder to the top when suddenly his foot slipped and he tumbled and ended up falling head first down a flight of stairs. It all happened faster than I could process. I didn’t have a chance to move and next thing I knew he was laying on the ground screaming and crying hysterically. The poor little guy! It looked like a nasty fall and clearly he was scared and hurting. You know how newer playground equipment is coated in rubber so it’s softer? Well, somehow during his fall that rubber pulled a patch of hair out of the back of his head! He cried for about 30 seconds while his Mom comforted him, and then I asked him if he wanted to go home or if he wanted to try the fireman pole. He immediately stopped crying and said he wanted to go down the pole.
So he did. He got up. He climbed to the top, and with not too much help from me, he slid right down that pole. Mission accomplished.
I was so proud of him. I still am. And I started thinking about my own life. How often do I try something, and it feels like I take a tumble, or it hurts, or it’s scary? Or in all honesty, it just goes less than my idea of perfect. Sometimes I give up and don’t try again. Other times I just wait a really long time to try again. Sometimes I go into hiding or some other form of defense mechanism, rather than just crying, getting up and trying again.
It’s time to change. It’s time to learn a lesson from a courageous 3 year old. David, you inspire me to live more bravely!
