"No, everyone can do their own."
"Grammie, do I do the next potato?"
"Yes, do them all."
"Who's being so kind and nice over there? Is that little Georgia? I'm so impressed by you."
The sweet conversations of a morning kitchen where my little girls are allowed to help in ways that I'd never entertain. Frankly, it's too much work. And I worry about them cutting he selves or getting burned. And I love to cook and I'd just rather do it myself. But not here. Here they get to do all sorts of things without someone hurrying them or yelling at them or telling them, "oh, just let Moma do it."
Here they learn, they are encouraged and they are praised.
Today as I sat and listened to the dialogue between my girls and their Grandmother in the kitchen, I didn't feel guilty, but grateful. Grateful that their Grandmother is patient with them, finds the good in them and empowers them to be more. I don't need to feel guilty that I don't let them cook every meal, do the dishes and laundry, wait a minute, am I nuts?! But seriously, my mom is now in a different place in life. She's not rushing out the door, taking care of small children, working... She has wisdom and time that allows her to invite her grandchildren into the everyday tasks that they love and let them participate. I don't yet have that luxury, so in this season I can't let them participate in everything and I don't have to feel guilty about that. I'm grateful that in our village, there are those who can give my children what I can't and I will continue to surround myself with those other villagers and allow them to teach and refine my children, guilt free!