Easter weekend, the kids were out of school Friday. Our daughter needed to be at her French Club activity from 12-1:30 and then had a house to clean, so the two littles and I stayed in town to run our errands. We all left in a rush around 11 because she reminded me she needed a hair cut before her activity, but—so unlike me—I failed to pack water bottles and sliced apples and granola bars for the journey. At one point they asked what we were going to do about lunch. In my mind we’d just hold out till we got home, but I was thinking that was kind of a long time from now… good grief. And then I realized my 14 year-old would be cleaning that house from 2-4 without any lunch. I sighed. The nice side of me wanted to treat everyone to a fun lunch on our day off together; the cheap side of me was frustrated that it had come to this. Where were my grapes anyway?
So I formulated a plan. We would buy sandwiches at Subway, I’d eat at home later. I was impressed that for just over $12, we had fed and and watered everyone. The kids know how I am (water, we have chips at home), and they know how differently their dad does things (chips and sodas for sure, heck—throw in a cookie for everyone while we’re at it); in my mind, it was a lucky day that we even stopped (I’m the kind who packs lunches if I’m the driver on our 10 hour trips, one guess what kind Todd is). They were excited as we went to sit down, appreciative that “at least we got sandwiches.”
I remembered our Subway stop as we were recapping our day with their dad later. I admitted how cheap I’d been, but he already knew. Not the least bit surprised, he admonished me to be better next time, to do the whole thing: chips and even soda. (I know, most of you are shaking your heads that this is even a conversation we had to have.)
But I was remembering this lesson—the same one he’s always trying to teach me—Saturday afternoon. I sat in a parking lot on my way home from an assignment, going back and forth in my mind as I always do, should I buy everyone spring dresses and ties for Easter? I couldn’t decide, I played the game back and forth in my head: spoil them now and then, don’t always worry about the money; do they need new church clothes, is that really what we should be spending money on? I went home. And then I remembered another lesson I always try to keep in mind: it doesn’t always have to be equal. So I thought about each of my kids and what they needed, not just physically but emotionally. I knew the boys wouldn’t care about new ties. One was at work and one was working with his dad, they were busy and happy, and clothes just don’t matter to them. Our 14 year-old was with a friend and I knew she would want to pick out something on her own anyway, plus I already buy her fabric to make dresses, she has lots of church clothes. So only our little 10 year-old daughter was home. Alone with me. That’s when I knew just what to do, as if a flash of inspiration suddenly donned on me. We would take a mini shopping expedition to town, just the two of us. It was so fun to be in the bustle of Easter shoppers, to be amid the pastel dresses and shrugs and flowy skirts. We tried on all sorts of skirts and tops and dresses in the little dressing rooms. I sat there as my mom had done with me on so many occasions, and I basked in our own little time together. A couple of stores later, we finally found the perfect spring dress. We unexpectedly came across two perfect tops for church, but they were almost $20 each. So much to spend compared to what I knew I could get them for at a garage sale. But I held on to them to see what kind of sale prices we could get. I was thrilled with the magic of the register and how it ended up being cheaper to get all three than just two! I was so happy we could get them all, they were so her, so perfect, I was charmed.
It wasn’t until later on that she mentioned she’d never had a new dress from a store. I had to think back to see if she was mistaken, I was shocked! But she was right. We live on leftovers and hand-me-downs. Not because we’re that hard-up, but because we’re thrifty and lucky to have them. Whenever she’s wanted to go shopping, she knows that means to look in the boxes in the garage. Whenever I’ve asked if she needs any new church clothes, she always tells me she’s fine and tells me about the three skirts she has. But I know how fun this outing was for her, to get a new dress that is just her size, just her style, just for her. It was such a great time for us together, I loved it, and I recorded in my mind to do this more often. Such a simple outing, didn’t take long, didn’t even take that much money, didn’t stress me out. It was just what she needed to feel loved and pampered and special, the tail end of a family that crowds her out sometimes. An everyday afternoon turned into a memory we’ve both logged away as something special.
It was just a couple hours later at our General Women’s meeting during one of the talks that this afternoon excursion became even more meaningful to me.
Without warning and out of nowhere, a speaker was looking directly at me and tears sprung to life and started rolling down my cheeks. This lesson was specifically for me, because I’m positive I am the only mom who needed it. I can’t think of anyone as cheap and calculated as I am. So lacking in fun and spontaneity. Needing such a direct visit from the Spirit. But how grateful I am that Elder Eyring had the foresight to include it in his talk.
The conference focused on service and the many individual ways we can use our resources to bless lives. He referred to the scripture in Mark to illustrate how we all give in our own way, And Jesus said, Let her alone; why trouble ye her? she hath wrought a good work on me. For ye have the poor with you always, and whensoever ye will ye may do them good: but me ye have not always. I immediately started crying! My heart and mind were immediately touched and understood so plainly what the Spirit was trying to tell me. It wasn’t what Christ was intending to teach, He was talking about Himself obviously. But, given my recent experiences of the weekend, I couldn’t help but apply it to myself.
It broke my heart to think of His disciples and followers having to go on without Him, I thought about how sad I’d be if I’d be there with Him. But then I couldn’t help but think of my own little family, and His words struck me to my core, I’m not always going to have my kids with me. I’m down to two who are even around to take on errands anymore, and my 12 year-old begs me to stay at home (I almost always insist he come with us just for this reason). I used to have five littles who I’d cart all over town with me; life was crazy. But now I’m alone most of the time, now and then I’ll have one or two, but nothing like the olden days. I know you younger moms are counting the days until you can live such a luxurious, carefree life. But it is sad. And all of this rushed through my head as I listened to him talk about this scripture.
The moment I heard it, I realized I was like the people chastising the woman who used expensive oil, which could’ve been sold to help the poor. I admit, I could’ve been one of the crowd; I’m constantly reallocating funds in my mind, If we just ate at home, we would have that much more to give away… So many are worse off than us, we already have so much…
But to hear His words, I immediately thought of my kids. I know what He was saying He was saying to help me too. I’m not always going to have my kids with me. There will plenty of years to help the poor. A little treat here and there, frozen yogurt while the others are gone, chips with our sandwiches, a dress now and then, a candy bar on my son’s computer, new fabric for my 14 year-old, a little Easter candy for our missionary son, none of it will break the bank. But it will help make memories and a daughter feel loved. A 12 year-old son feel special. I love to do it, love it. I just always worry that I’m misappropriating sacred funds, that instead of pampering ourselves, we could (should?) share it with others. There are so many others.
Which is exactly why I cried. It was as if Christ Himself was giving me permission to use the expensive oil, to buy the dress, to enjoy a lunch out with my kids. He was telling me personally that He knows my heart, how much I want to help others. And yet, there will always be the poor. He knows I will still continue to do what I can to help them. But in a quiet, tender way, He was reminding me that your children…”ye have not always.”
At least not like this. To run errands with on a day off of school. A little daughter who still wants me to go shopping with her and pick out a new top. Elementary school kids who thrill at the chance to eat at Subway on a random spring day. A 12 year-old son who’s not embarrassed to spend some time eating frozen yogurt with his mom. These days certainly can’t last forever and so I’m grateful, so eternally grateful, for the instruction of the weekend. For my mistakes and for these lessons. For Christ’s life and His atonement that can help me learn a better way and move on when I’ve stumbled. I’m grateful for a fresh perspective and another beginning, for another day, another week, with my precious kids who I know I will “have not always.” At least not like this.
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