Children are undoubtedly like sponges. They observe and listen carefully to everything we say and do, both good and bad. Their hearts are tender and fertile soil, making everything they experience a seed that’s planted there. Some studies even suggest that a baby still in the womb can hear what’s happening on the outside. I personally believe that to be true.
I’ve had the great privilege of living into my middle-ages. Many people I’ve known well haven’t had that privilege, so I never take it for granted. It’s also given me the opportunity to look back in hindsight at my childhood, adolescent, and teenage years in retrospect. Like you, I’ve had both good and bad experiences and seeds sown into my heart. Some sowers knew what they were sowing while others were just living their life in a way that they thought was best at that time their own life. Nevertheless, lifelong seeds were planted into a child’s heart that took years to sprout.
My mom was a nurse by profession. When I was still a toddler my parents made the decision that she would leave the hospital setting and stay home with their growing family. My dad worked for the Town of Huntington back then. Shortly after they started a business selling women’s clothing on consignment. From my understanding, the 1980’s was a booming time for this type of business and they did very well.
One Christmas morning in that business boom, my dad took me out with him to get bagels and rolls. Egg sandwiches on Christmas morning were part of our Christmas tradition. On the way to the bagel store, he pulled to the back entrance of what was then Pathmark in Shirley. The back entrance was the one we rarely used because the bottle return center was there. But this Christmas morning, he purposely pulled back there, exited the car, and gave cash to each person returning the bottles they had gathered, along with a friendly handshake and Christmas greeting, all while an elementary school child with a fertile heart was waiting in the car and watching what dad was doing. A seed of mercy towards another struggling human was planted that Christmas morning.
My mom left the nursing profession to be at home with her children but apparently it never left her. Some pick a profession for the paycheck; others pick it because it’s their heart. One day, we were walking into King Kullen in Shirley and an elderly gentleman collapsed on the sidewalk right in front of us. Without hesitation, my mother rushed to the stranger’s aid, checking his vitals, and then gave mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. She could have hurried by using her children being with her as a valid excuse. Instead, she stopped and planted a seed in each of our hearts.
My mom bathed, fed, and cared for my dad’s grandfather for several years, who fell ill shortly after retiring. My parents were generous towards the garbage men, not only on Christmas, but often. They gave a struggling young couple from our neighborhood our old car when we purchased a new one. My grandmother lived with us while she was in hospice care for the last few months of her life. She had her own room where she could have all of her friends over to visit. She was made to feel loved, cared for, and as comfortable as possible in her final days on Earth, all while I observed this real-life sermon.
My grandmother was the one who planted the seed of knowing Jesus into my heart. I wasn’t really interested at the time, but she planted it anyway. I watched her invite struggling teenagers into her home; she was generous, kind and warm. It wasn’t a burden for her to spend one-on-one time with me; she loved to. Even though she lived her later years with a broken heart, she lived her life in a selfless manner in the best way that God gave her the strength to.
She passed away in our home when I was in my early teenage years. Yet, here I am thirty years later with all of those wonderful seeds still sprouting in my heart.
“Train up a child in the way they should go and when they are old they will not depart from it.” – Proverbs 22:6
