by Mary Clifford Morrell
I’ll admit, I appreciate a good quote, one that stops me in my thinking for a moment and then makes me think more. Good quotes say a lot in a few words, kind of like a good writer.
One of my favorites is attributed to Bernard Baruch, early 20th century financier and political advisor: “Millions saw the apple fall, but Newton asked why.”
There you have summed up in nine words the value of curiosity. I’ve wondered whether Isaac Newton was one of those children who were forever asking why.
I think most families have at least one. But given his quiet, reflective nature he may not have asked the question outright but certainly he mulled it ‘round in his head over all things he observed until one day he observed an apple fall from a tree and asked himself why it fell straight to the ground.
The theory of gravity was proposed.
As a child, Newton was influenced by his natural surroundings and his budding skills at construction and using the tools of the trade. Inspired by both and coupled with a lifetime of observation and experimentation, Newton’s curiosity propelled him to change the world around him.
We cannot expect all our children to become an Isaac Newton, but they each have their own creativity and questions and missions in life. Our natural surroundings can serve as a tool in helping us nurture all those parts of our children, by interaction and encouraging their observations and questions.
There is an inherent beauty and mystery in nature that attracts children, even if they can’t put it in words, except to ask why. Certainly, we’ve seen a child look under a rock and “oooh” and “aaah” over scurrying bugs, and ask the questions, “Why do they live under rocks? Where is their home? Why do they look like that? Why do we need bugs?”
Or the child who is fascinated by a microscope, or telescope, who has more why questions about stars in the sky than most of us could answer. Or the child like my granddaughter who, at age nine, has already drawn out her plans for an environmentally sound aquarium—for mermaids.
When my family drove across country from New Jersey to Montana, one of our most memorable experiences was laying on the ground of our campsite and looking up at the sky which was full to the brim with stars, something we never see in our home skies. The ones who were most in awe were the kids—youngsters and teenagers, alike.
In those moments I heard the words of one of my favorite hymns:
For the beauty of the earth, For the glory of the skies,
For the love which from our birth Over and around us lies—
For the wonder of each hour, Of the day and of the night,
Hill and vale, and tree and flow’r,
Sun and moon, and stars of light—
Refrain: Lord of all, to Thee we raise, This our hymn of grateful praise.
Mary Regina Morrell, mother of six and grandmother to nine, is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.
by Mary Clifford Morrell
Going out to dinner with our six boys was something our family relished. We couldn’t do it often, given the expense, but often enough for it to take on elements of ritual.
We let the boys order for themselves, and for the most part they ordered what they knew they could finish, and always ordered water to drink because not only was soda frowned upon, it added up on the tab.
During one visit to our favorite restaurant, the waiter got around to son # 3, who framed his order, saying, “I’ll start with….”
The table exploded with laughter before he could identify his appetizer, something no one ever ordered since the meal came with a salad bar. He also ordered soda. His brothers asked him if he came into money and was paying the bill.
We never figured out why he broke with tradition, which for some reason was not enough for him on this day, and ordered more than he should have, but it’s in the family archives.
The concept of enough is a difficult one for young children to grasp, and for older children and teens to accept. It’s also often hard for adults to embrace. We may come to a point where we feel if we had more of something, we would be happier, but that happiness is fleeting as our idea of enough gets broader and deeper.
Embracing the state of “enough” requires an understanding of the difference between needs and wants, and the discipline to at least keep the two balanced.
The truth is if we can get a handle on our own understanding of enough, and what it means as far as our own choices go, it is easier to pass on to our children instead of actively trying to teach it to them.
Many children will outgrow their collections of stuffed animals or blankets when they realize there’s not enough room in the bed for them and their collection. It may be more difficult to make a change when it involves screen time or sweets, antagonizing a sibling, complaining or wanting to have just one more snack. It’s not long before children feel like they are in competition with their friends, who may have more or better than they do. This perceived lack can leave them unhappy and unable to be satisfied with the blessings they do have.
Helping them understand that they have enough, do enough and are enough will go a long way toward their developing a positive mindset as adults.
During my lifetime as a parent, there were honestly many times when there wasn’t enough of something, especially money to pay all the bills. I had to make a conscious choice not to live in a mindset of not enough because it often seemed to be a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Then my pre-school class taught me something.
We were learning about Johnny Appleseed and decided to use the Johnny Appleseed song as our classroom prayer/song: “The Lord is good to me, and so I thank the Lord, for giving me the things I need, the sun and the rain and the apple seed. The Lord is good to me.”
They sang it, hummed it, drew it throughout the entire school year.
I adopted it for my own, and still sing it to myself when I need reminding about the difference between want and need, and to stay aware of the sun and rain and apple seeds of my life.
Mary Regina Morrell, mother of six and grandmother to nine, is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.
by Mary Clifford Morrell
As someone in the communication industry, who routinely asks questions or offers direction to colleagues through email, I still sometimes find myself responding to their emails with “I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear.”
Good, effective communication is not easy, especially when it’s not face-to-face, or at least voice-to-voice. Tone of voice, facial expression and body language are part of communication and help others better understand what we are trying to communicate.
Of course, that doesn’t make it fool-proof, especially where emotions are concerned.
We know open and honest communication is essential for our families, but often communications take place when we are frustrated, fearful, angry or hurt. Our words and our body language are reflective of our emotions, which may be honest at the time, but not effective in imparting what we truly want our children to hear and understand.
My biggest mistake as a grandparent, one I lost many nights of sleep over, was losing my patience with a screaming, defiant two-year-old and screaming back at him at full volume. Instead of stopping his screaming, he screamed louder, terrified by my reaction and running full speed in the other direction.
I could only calm him down by picking him up and apologizing for my behavior, kissing him and telling him multiple times that I shouldn’t have done what I did, and explaining, when he was quiet, that I had been upset by his behavior and I lost my patience. I admitted to him, in front of my other grandsons, that I, like any adult caring for a child, should never lose their patience and react as I did. I asked him if he could forgive me for what I did. I don’t know if he really understood forgiveness, though I’m sure his parents have spoken of it before, but he certainly understood my tone, putting his little arms around my neck and hugging me.
He’s also the grandson who would get frustrated when he tried to join in a conversation which his older brothers seemed to dominate. When he couldn’t stand it anymore he would start crying and yelling, “No one is listening to me!” When there is too much noise and not enough clear, honest communication, members of the family— whether they are children, adults, spouses or grandparents—won’t feel heard. It’s a wonderful thing when our children feel safe talking to us about anything. Often, they will follow our lead when we share our thoughts, feelings and dreams with them—without screaming, of course. Scripture offers us the wise direction to “speak the truth in love.” It’s a wonderful command for families where love is at the heart of everything.
Mary Regina Morrell, mother of six and grandmother to nine, is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.