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A mother’s treasure

Elvera Trimboli

Have you ever considered the answer to this question: Your house is on fire, people and photos have been rescued, and you can save only five items; what would they be? I am not sure of all five items, but I do know that on top of my list would be two books tucked away in my china cabinet. They are my journals, containing my memories since becoming a mother. Of course, they are biased, emphasizing positive qualities over negative ones, and many more happy events are recorded than bad ones. Nonetheless, they are events that really happened, focal moments of truth and learning.

In January 1994, my husband Dom and I had an opportunity to go to Jamaica for a week. Being first-time parents, we took our 18-month-old son, Gabriel. After four hours on an airplane, we were soon looking out the window of our room onto a sunny tropical paradise. Gabriel played happily on the bed with some new toys we had brought along. Dom looked at him and smiled, “Just imagine: We have flown thousands of miles and changed climates and surroundings radically. We have turned his whole world upside down, and yet he looks at us with trusting eyes as if to say, ‘I am OK because I am with you.’”

In that moment, I got a sense of the huge responsiblity I had taken on in becoming a parent, and the power of influence that I had in shaping his life.

As if to underscore that thought, on the flight home to Canada, our plane hit some unexpected turbulence. Without warning, the plane dropped suddenly and alarmingly. Those with weak stomachs could not eat anything for the remainder of the flight. The seatbelt light flashed on, and the pilot apologized for the disturbance. Gabriel, who was unaware of any danger in air travel, continued to play with his jungle animals even as he was losing his balance and sliding down on his elbow. His trusting blue eyes communicated the same message they so often had before: “I’m OK because I am with you.” Never was it clearer that I was not in control – nor was the pilot. At that moment, I knew that I would have to make sure our son trusted in the One who is always in control up there in the air and back home on solid ground.

Not long after, our second son, Nathaniel, was born. Dom and I seriously set about trying to raise our boys according to Proverbs 22:6: “Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.”

It began with training their speech. In August 1996, I recorded teaching our second son some basic words. “Say, ‘thank you’, Nathaniel,” I began.

“Ga Ga,” was his response.

“Say ‘bottle’,” I encouraged.

“Ba Ba,” came his answer.

“Say ‘Mommy’,” I pleaded.

“Ya Ya,” he replied.

His first recognizable sentence was “Ga Ga Ba Ba Ya Ya.” I was a Ya Ya for much longer than is healthy for a mom.

Then came training their actions. This, of course, is ongoing. May 3, 1999 had a typical teaching moment. I caught the boys running around outside without their shoes on. Their once white socks were filthy black from the driveway. I was just beginning with the lecture when I had what I thought was a great idea. I would make them wash their own socks, and they would think twice about doing that again. I filled up the sink and had them take off their socks and scrub them with soap. They squeezed so much dirt out of the socks that there was a filthy rim of brown soap scum all around the sink.

“Now,” I said, “would you like to have to wash your socks like that again?”

“Every day?” Nathaniel asked.

“Yes,” I answered. “Every day.”

“Sure, Mom,” Nathaniel replied and hopped away.

I hoped to have a little more success in training their thoughts. I didn’t realize our influence in this area was already so deeply entrenched until one day in grade 1 Gabriel startled me with his wisdom. He was working on an “Earth Day” project and had found a little book on the environment. Included was a page on evolution with pictures of an ape turning into a man. Gabriel turned to me and said, “Oh no, no, no, Mommy, that’s not right. We don’t believe that!” His simple declaration of faith in God’s role in our creation revealed the impact that Bible teaching had had on his few short years of life. Finally, we had had some success in “training him in the way he should go”.

Yet, I wasn’t satisfied with Gabriel just mimicking my thoughts and opinions. I realized that I would have to go deeper and teach him how to think. When our boys grow up, they may have to make decisions that I may not want them to make because those decisions will take them away from me. As difficult as it may be, I have come to realize that it is not what I want for them that is most important; it is ultimately what God wants for them. Looking back to that Jamaica trip, I know I want Gabriel and Nathaniel to be secure not because they are with me but because they are trusting God.

That transfer is difficult. I’m not sure how I will make it, but I do know that as I train my children in the way they should go, I as a mother am training too, and this learning about mothering is a long process.

Elvera Trimboli is a member of Niagara Falls (Ont.) Christian Fellowship.

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Last modified June 29, 2001.

© 2001 Mennonite Brethren Herald.
Published by the Canadian Conference of MB Churches.
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