little teachers: the priceless easter gypsy

Meet my little gypsy friend from Cairo:

I spent most of 2006 living in Cairo, Egypt with the non-profit I work for. I look back on that year as one of the best years of my life. Literally.

During the lead-up to Easter, I was amazed at how this Christian holiday was celebrated in this largely Muslim nation. (You may or may not know, but there are 12+ million Christians in Egypt - a small but significant minority.)

Outside of every church (especially the Coptic Orthodox churches) were people of all ages selling flowers, decorations, and other beautiful hand-made wares and gifts. People came out of the woodwork to collect woven baskets and crosses made of palm leaves. Everywhere you turned were bright flowers and smiling eyes preparing for the celebration of this significant religious holiday.

This little gypsy girl captured my imagination and a piece of my heart as I met her on Palm Sunday (the week before Easter). Her big eyes, her curly hair, her adorable freckles and crooked smile... the small trail of snot stretching from her nose to her naturally shiny, pink lips. She was just perfect, beautiful and perfect.

She was part of a gypsy family--a people often looked down on by other Egyptians--and yet even despite her initial shyness she met me with confidence, warmth, and joy in her eyes.

Precious gypsy princess showed me her woven treasures and reminded me that there are treasures within all of us - even those normally looked down on by other segments of society - and that every treasure is just that: exquisite, priceless, and beautiful.

Although we spoke different languages and exchanged no words beyond my fumbling hello, thank you, and goodbye in Arabic, I think of her every Easter season and remember that...

There are treasures all around me, 

if only I'm willing to open my eyes for them.

Dear friends, what life lessons have you learned from Little Teachers lately? Any that are specific to the Easter season?

treasure hunting,


p.s. This post is part of a series - All the Children of the World: Little Teachers - where I feature a photo of a precious little one that I've met during my volunteer work in developing nations over the last 11 years, as well as what I've learned about life and parenting through meeting them.

{Also linking in with the Community Writing Project on Mother Inferior.}

ANNOUNCEMENTS

Are you pregnant? Link up with the Bloggin' Babes and Babies of 2011.

Share your creativity and Easter inspiration by submitting your Easter card to our Easter card linky (closing April 21).

adriel booker | the mommyhood memos | 2011
do not reproduce without written permission

little teachers: toddlers in tiaras and afro babies

I met this gorgeous little girl when I was on an outreach in the Solomon Islands several years ago. It was my first time in the nation and I had a lot to learn about the people and the culture.

Although the expression I captured makes her look like a sad little girl, she wasn't. She was simply lovely and it didn't take much for my heart to melt as she charmed me.

I was so captured by her beauty - those deep brown eyes and her perfect little features.

But I couldn't believe she had blonde hair. I thought to myself, "What kind of a parent living in an incredibly poor village spends money on bleaching the hair of such a young child?" It made me angry to think that these little ones had such limited access to health care and education and basic necessities and yet someone deemed it appropriate to spend money on bleaching her beautiful little fro.

Besides, didn't they know she was already perfect? Perfect "as-is"?

What I didn't know then is that her hair was naturally blonde and that many children and adults from her people group are born with dark skin and blonde hair. It really is stunning and I had never seen anything like it before.

When I found out the truth I was so convicted of being judgmental. Here I was, a guest in this nation, jumping to conclusions about someone else's parenting based solely on the appearance of their child.

Shame on me.

Admittedly it's hard not to do this when I come from a culture that has "toddlers in tiaras" and other questionable practices like that. I look at preschool-aged girls with full make-up and clothing that is sexy-beyond-their-years and I automatically form opinions about what their mothers are like. (Not saying that it's right of me to do so... just that it's extremely hard not to in these types of scenarios.)

In the case of this sort of childhood pageantry, my view of the parents is almost automatically formed by looking at the child.

But it just doesn't translate cross-culturally. This beautiful little blonde girl taught me a lesson: don't assume, don't judge, don't jump to conclusions.

It's the age old antic - don't judge a book by it's cover.

I'm thankful for this little teacher and the lesson she taught me by accident. I try to remember her when I see children from other cultures (even in my own home town) that dress or act in ways I don't understand.

Children need our respect, our love, our kindness, and our acceptance no matter how similar or different they are to our own. And yes, even toddlers in tiaras. They are children too - precious and infinitely valuable, regardless of the decisions their parents make for them. They deserve nothing less.

And as much as I love children, I'm determined to be less judgmental toward their parents too. I want to discover their stories, what motivates them, why they make the decisions they do. Parents - all parents - need the support of other parents.

Children, parents, all people... Every man, woman, and child deserves our best effort at suspending judgement and valuing them for who they are.

Dear friends, have you caught yourself making judgements about other parents by something that you see in their child but haven't yet taken the time to try and understand? (Or can you think of a situation where you deliberately made a choice to NOT judge a book by it's cover?) What have the children in your life taught you lately?

humbled,


p.s. This post is part of a new series - All the Children of the World: Little Teachers - where I feature a photo of a precious little one that I've met during my volunteer work in developing nations, as well as what I learned about life and parenting through meeting them.

adriel booker | the mommyhood memos | 2011
do not reproduce without written permission

do you know about the magic?

Change of plans.

Yesterday I promised that today would be part two of my Tackling Tantrums series… but then I read Kelle Hampton’s post this morning about World Down Syndrome Day and knew that a slight detour was in order.

Tantrums will just have to wait. Until tomorrow.

I started following Kelle’s journey soon after I started blogging last May, which also happened to be soon after I became a mother.

Kelle and I are similar in age. Our babies (her Nella and my Levi) are also very close in age. She lives in Florida. I live in Australia. She wears red cowboy boots. I wear black flip-flops. Perhaps beyond being close in age and both being mothers we don’t have much in common at a glance… and yet as many of her readers would probably attest to, I feel close to this woman who dares to bare her heart on a page and share her treasured family with the world.

Through reading her posts and pouring over her delicious photos I’ve been able to absorb some of her life experience… and it’s truly made me a better person. And when I say better, I mean more aware, more open, more empathetic, and more willing to do my best to try and look at life—and the small things—from a different perspective.

This woman inspires me.

But it’s her little girls who have captured me.

Nella, the youngest of the two, is one of the special ones with the “magic chromosome.” Nella has Down Syndrome... And I have fallen in love with her.

{image by kelle hampton}

Before reading Kelle’s blog, I hadn’t thought much about Down Syndrome. I also hadn’t thought much about the possibility of one of my children being born with Down Syndrome… or any disease for that matter.

Any mother knows that it’s a possibility, but like most, when those thoughts would drift into my mind from time to time I was always quick to dismiss them and be deliberate about “thinking positive.”

But I’ve redefined what it means to “think positive” in this case.

Thinking positive in this context is remembering that any child, no matter how many chromosomes they are born with (or other difficulties for that matter), is still a beautiful and precious individual so worthy of loving and cherishing, honoring and admiring.

This line of thinking isn’t exactly new for me. I’ve always believed that life is sacred and precious... and that it’s easiest to see within the purity of children. But it has forced me to think about this truth within the stark reality of hearing those dreaded words: “I'm sorry, but your child has… fillintheblankhere.”

I write this as a pregnant woman fully aware that the child I carry within me is yet to be known. But this child that I still know so little about is already deeply loved. No matter how the labor and delivery goes, no matter what gender s/he turns out to be, no matter her personality or wit or capacity to comprehend, no matter which side of the family he comes out looking like, no matter her abilities, no matter his strengths or her weaknesses, and no matter the number of chromosomes.

I would not be one of the 92% of women who abort when they discover they are carrying a child with the “magic chromosome”… but I am also not the woman to judge that woman. We all carry our own difficulties, our own fears, our own insecurities, our own worldviews. But today, on World Down Syndrome Day, I want to leave you with some of Kelle’s words, because I cannot say it better:

“Mostly, the parent of a child with Down syndrome—or autism or Turner’s syndrome or Prader Willi syndrome or, for that matter, no syndrome at all—wants the world to accept their child. To love them, praise them, high five them on the soccer field, compliment their awesome sneakers, invite them to birthday parties, ask them questions and really listen when they reply, pick them for playdates, help them when they’re struggling, teach them when they need it and recognize all the good they have to give the world.”

{image by kelle hampton}

Kelle urges us, not just as mothers, but as individuals who carry the ability to influence in the everyday, to “Pay attention to the person, the child, the soul—not the wheelchair, the chromosome, the difference. Allow yourself to be astonished—to learn something new from someone, to be inspired, to laugh, to enjoy a moment. And then pass it on. Spread your awareness message by the way you live, the way you speak and the way you treat people.”

Dear friends, this is just my one little way to bring light to an issue that touches millions of people the world over. I desperately want to be the kind of mother who teaches my children how to love and accept others through both my instruction and—more importantly—my example. How will you use your ability to influence in the every day to make someone’s life just a little bit better today? How well are you paying attention to the person??

inspired by the magic,

p.s. World Down Syndrome Day is March 21... but this was posted on the 22nd in Australia. Oh time change, you still sometimes confuse me!

adriel booker | the mommyhood memos | 2011
do not reproduce without written permission

little teachers: laugh loud

I'm venturing into new territory here.

You may or may not know that with my work I do a lot of travel, especially into developing nations. I've been doing outreaches for the last 10+ years, both as a single person and now together with my husband and family. (I'm a big believer in family volunteerism and teaching our kids how to serve others while they're still young.)

We teach, we advocate, we do relief work. We volunteer in schools, orphanages, clinics, and churches. We help refugees, the poor, and those in need of care. We're no heroes... we just love, give what we've received, and know that it is an absolute privilege to do so.

And so because of this work that I so deeply adore, I've been to many, many nations all over the planet. Literally.

But my favorite place in all the world to be is Asia. Anywhere in Asia. It's a land that makes my heart burst.

One of the things that delights me to no end is going for long walks on my days off wandering through cities or villages and photographing the people that I meet. I could spend days on end doing this.... walking, connecting, capturing, recording.

And since the Memos is all about motherhood and parenting and children, I thought it fitting to introduce you to some of the very special children in my life. Hence my new series that I will post now and then - All the Children of the World: Little Teachers.

These beautiful littles don't "belong" to me. In fact, often I can't even recall their names.

But always I will remember their faces, the moments we shared together, and the ways they impacted my life.

Each one of them is beyond precious.

Allow me to introduce you to some boys I met in Pontianak, Indonesia (on the island of Borneo).

{buddies in borneo - 2008}

Although nowhere near my best on a technical level, this photo remains one of my all time favorites so I thought it fitting to kick off this new series with it.

These boys loved having their photo taken. No doubt it was their grand debut on the international stage and they didn't waste a moment of it.

They splashed, they ran, they danced, and they hollered. They closed their eyes, threw their heads back, and unabashedly roared with laughter.

I love the color and movement and emotion in this photo and how it captures the pure abandon with which they were enjoying the moment.

Every time I see it I'm reminded to play hard, laugh loud, and hold somebody's hand.

Dear friends, what have the Little Teachers in your life taught you or reminded you to do lately?

smiling wide,

adriel booker | the mommyhood memos | 2011
 do not reproduce without written permission

wonder

I was looking through my photos from our Christmas holiday in Oregon so far, and as I paused at this one I immediately thought of the word WONDER.

What must have been going through little Levi’s mind as he held glowing bits of light between his fingertips? WONDER.

And when is the last time that I let myself be childlike in my own thinking?

I’m not talking about being childish here—as in immature—I’m talking about being childlike...

Able to suspend my to-do’s and agendas long enough to just be in the moment, caught up in whatever beauty is before me.

Able to discover and question and find joy in simple things.

Able to love unabashedly. Laugh without restraint. Be free of self-consciousness, self-doubt, or self-criticism.

Able to believe whole-heartedly, cry unashamedly, and trust completely.

I have moments of being able to live with a child-like simplicity. But they are only moments.

Far too often my rationale gets in the way. My sense of responsibility. My need to be “right” or do things “just right”. My consideration of others perceptions of me. My desire to have order. My tendency to plan and predict and predetermine.

And although none of those things are wrong… they can get in the way of living if I’m not careful.

I’ve had many of these “wonder” moments lately—being on holiday helps—but I’m not satisfied. I want more.

Thank you, little Levi, for helping mama to remember that it’s important to wonder.

Dear friends, how are you keeping the WONDER in life this Christmas season?

stopping to wonder,

adriel booker | the mommyhood memos | 2010 
do not reproduce without written permission

dear God, thank you for beauty in garbage

Don't you just love seeing life through a child's perspective?


Last night at dinner I sat next to a friend who has a little boy the same age as ours. Somehow we got on the topic of how children help us to slow down... pause... see things in a new light.

A couple of days ago I was on a bush walk with Levi. We stopped to look at a tall, beautiful gum tree. I've always loved gum trees - their smooth bone-white trunks, their muted sage green colored leaves, and the fresh scent of eucalyptus.

I placed Levi's hand on a part of the trunk where the bark was stripped back saying, "smooth, smooth" and then over to an area where the bark was still in tact saying "rough, rough." 

We did the new-found "smooth, smooth, rough, rough" game a few times. Levi loved it - he laughed and laughed and looked from the tree to me and back again in delight.

I'm not sure if he was laughing at the new experience, laughing at the comparison of touch sensations, laughing at my words, or just laughing because he was enjoying himself. 

No matter the reason for his laughter, it really spurred me to think about the joy of discovery.

I can get so caught up in running here and there, doing this and that, and it's far too easy to let the detail of life pass me by. But having a small child that is learning so much every day really helps me to put things into perspective. He helps me to see things through new eyes and enjoy the small things that I might never notice without his help.

He helps me to see beauty and wonder and joy in a tree trunk... or a garbage can.

Dear friends, what has your child helped you to see lately?

trying to take notice,

adriel booker | the mommyhood memos | 2010 
do not reproduce without written permission