my ‘Warren’s Sunday Shoes’ story

This story is more about understanding my level of maturation, growth, development, perspective... that kind of thing.

You know what I'm talking about...

"When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

"For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

"And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity." 1 Corinthians 13:11 - 13

That becoming a man, becoming an adult. It doesn't just happen in the blink of an eye. It happens line upon line, precept on precept, here a little and there a little.

Case in point. Our first born was only a couple months old. We went to visit David's parents. We went to Sunday School with them that morning. This was pre block-schedule so we would be going again later in the day for Sacrament meeting (Primary and Relief Society were held during the week).

We got home and Warren took his Sunday shoes off. They were pretty shoes! Two-toned leather, I think. Warren was a teenager-probably about 17 years old. His bedroom was downstairs. He knew he would need his shoes again soon enough so rather than drag them downstairs (to bring them back up later) he just left them in the front room. Patty (with down syndrome) was only 4 years old-well according to the calendar. She found a marker and proceeded to enhance her favorite older brother's shoes!

What did I do? Well-I did what any self-righteous know-it-all young adult would do. I KNEW Warren needed to be held responsible for what happened to his shoes because he should know what could happen so if it did, it was his own fault. But I was also concerned about permanent damage so I said loud enough for anyone else who could care, "Patty has a marker and it looks like she's going to color somebody's shoes!"

Mom came running. She didn't want the repercussions, I thought, of a teen's wrath about injustice. She took the marker away from Patty and hollered at Warren to get his shoes.

What would I do now? Now that I'm not quite as childish? I would have walked over to Patty, taken the marker away-like a normal healthy mature adult would, get her side-tracked doing something constructive; ask mom where she keeps markers so Patty can't get hold of them; and then give Warren his shoes and tell him the almost catastrophe and ask him if he can think of a safer place I could put his shoes until church later.

Fortunately most of them have forgotten my stupidity and if not, they've been kind enough not to repeat it-at least not in my hearing. Yeah-sometimes we do stupid things. AND families stick together, families help each other become better.

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