Our daughter reported the following on Facebook yesterday:
“Jeffrey came out of his room after his nap and said, “I’m awake mom! Can we watch bobada (bob the builder)… Or Thomas….. Or magic cool bus…. Those are your choice mom ok. Let me know.” He’s got this whole choices thing down.”
I chuckled audibly, a literal laugh out loud as I reflected on the process that takes place in our little ones as they grow and develop their speaking skills. The Wall Street Journal reported that babies’ brains are helped by hearing more words. Says the article:
Children who hear more words at an early age–not from TV but from someone speaking directly to them–fare better. And longer, complex sentences are fine. The idea is to prime the brain to learn new words through context. “Let’s put the orange in this bowl with the banana and the apple and the grapes.” Associated Press, February 13, 2014
I’m pleased that our daughter’s example of carrying on conversations with little 2-year-old Jeffrey is resulting in his ability to draw conclusions and express them in a clear, understandable manner. His knowledge of “choices” is a powerful reflection of his innate recognition of truth that his mom has reinforced with her teachings.
This train of thought led me to other contemplations about the words we speak, how we say them, what we create or destroy with our words. For example, consider the commandment, “Thou shalt not kill.” Is it possible that with our words we can kill confidence, kill motive, or kill relationships? Is it possible that unspoken words can kill forgiveness, kill friendships, or kill progress and hope?
Recently, 22 members of our family went to China together and spent three weeks exploring the amazing places and culture that are to be found there. Nine of the group were children, of which one was two years old and another was a baby in arms. I’m happy to report that in the three weeks we were together, our family experienced love, compassion and service on a level that I can only think of as celestial. Never once did I hear an unkind word; never once did I hear anger or impatience, felt or expressed. We sang together, we shared nearly every meal together, and we walked and walked and walked. Thankfully, we did not lose a child OR one of our 63 pieces of luggage on the trip. How did we manage to do that, keep our cool as adults, and avoid seemingly inevitable contention?
I attribute the answer partly to communication. The words we used were clear, so that there was no way to misunderstand. For example, each child was responsible to pull a piece of luggage and carry a small backpack, except for the baby and the two-year old. This expectation was expressed long before the actual trip, as the family prepared at home and planned and saved together. So the children knew, even before the journey began, that they had the responsibility of their own luggage.
Each child was also assigned an adult “buddy” that they were to hold hands with at all times. The adult buddy made sure that they were always holding the child’s hand, and if a child began to pull away to go exploring on his or her own, the adult “buddy” would say, “Where’s my buddy going?” This simple yet clear reminder was all that was needed to change the behavior.
It touched me deeply that as the trip wore on, children would offer to help carry an extra bag or help each other to push a heavy suitcase. When we rode the high-speed train, we had less than two minutes to make sure all 22 of us AND our bags were off the train before the zooming machine left the station. By planning ahead and communicating expectations, everyone knew exactly what to do, and we beat the deadline by more than a minute! We said to the children, “We are about to come to the train station where we will get off. Go right off of the train with Gammie (my name as grandmother) and wait with her while the rest of the grownups bring the bags off the train. You can help Gammie count to make sure we have all the bags.”
What is the message we are sending out with our words, spoken or unspoken? How can we temper our words, so that they give life, and confidence, and joy, and peace? Years ago, we made the decision as a family to eliminate sarcasm from our communication, and that has made a huge difference. We are not perfect, but we have come a long way, and the lack of sarcasm allows everyone to feel safe when we talk. Additionally, we do not yell. We try to be close enough in proximity that when we speak to each other, we can see each other’s faces (which gives the added bonus of viewing our responses and understanding of the message).
As a part of making the decision to eliminate sarcasm, we realized we would have to come up with a substitute in case of anger or disagreement. We made the rule that if our then young children began shouting at each other, they would have to lie down on the floor next to each other, and sing to each other about whatever the annoying behavior or disagreement was. It only took a few times before the threat of having to sing our fight caused all of us to collapse in giggles, realizing the ridiculousness of fighting with our words. As teenagers they became each others’ support system instead of antagonists.
As husbands and wives speak to each other, we are also teaching our children how to speak to each other. The words we hear our children speak; the tones we hear them using with each other, are reflections of what we teach by our example.
“Let husband and wife never speak to one another in loud tones, unless the house is on fire.” David O. McKay
Please don’t consider me presumptuous to add to President McKay’s quote, “Let husband and wife never speak to one another, or to their children, in sarcastic tones, ever.” The phrase, just kidding, added to a smug sarcastic comment, does not mean, “just kidding.” It usually contains a dig somewhere that is toxic and painful.
Raising eight children was often a noisy experience, especially when we traveled long distances in our enormous van. On one such occasion, the noise and contention got out of control. My husband pulled the van over to the side of the road and stopped the engine, then waited for a few minutes. The loud voices in the back became hushed and curious as the children waited to see what was going on. Stan unbuckled his seat belt and turned to face the kids. His voice was a mere whisper.
“It is too loud in the van,” he said softly, “and I don’t like the tone of voice I am hearing as you speak with each other. I want this behavior to stop right now, and we need to learn to speak kindly. We are an eternal family. We need to learn how to love and support each other, and to get along.”
From that point on, we rarely had a loud disagreement in the car. We often tempered the noise by singing together (this was in the days before you could switch on a movie and listen with headphones), and we tucked hymnals in the side pockets of the car so that everyone could look at the words to the hymns. In the process, we began a tradition of singing that we all love when we’re together.
Sister Rosemary M. Wixom, General Primary President, spoke of the words we use last April in General Conference. “May the words we speak and write to our children reflect the love our Heavenly Father has for His son, Jesus Christ, and for us. And then may we pause to listen, for a child is most capable of speaking great and marvelous things in return.”
Thinking back to our little Jeffrey and his focus on “choices,” I echo her sentiment of the importance of listening. “Those are your choices Mom. OK. Let me know.” And we do let them know. Every time we speak, we let them know.
MaryannMarch 24, 2014
I think if we really understood how powerful our words are we would be more careful about how we speak. It amazes me that we can lift someone into the sunlight or drag them into darkness with our words.