Honesty, or, One Boy's Quest to Tell the Truth

Last night I went downstairs to rotate the laundry, long after lights out for Elise and Mason. This is a common part of my bedtime routine. Anyhow, I heard a noise, and upon walking out of the laundry room, saw Mason grab something out of his marble container. He scurried into his bed and pulled the covers over his head.

I followed him in, uncovered his head and asked him to give the marbles to me. He responded, "I don't have any marbles." Almost instantly, however, he opened his hand to reveal two marbles. I was about to get upset with him, but instead decided to simply say, "I'm very disappointed that you lied to me." I took the marbles and left the room.

I went upstairs and Stephen and I turned on a show--me completely forgetting about what had happened. After about 10 minutes we heard a shuffling of feet, and then Mason appeared, his head down, and he said, very softly, "I'm sorry, Mommy." He immediately burst into tears and ran out of the room. Stephen looked at me in bewilderment as I ran after him.

He stopped in the kitchen, and was the saddest boy you have ever seen. He was so ashamed and penitent. I just held him and told him I forgave him and was so proud of him for knowing that he needed to apologize, and being brave enough to come upstairs and do it. He was not easily convinced that he was still a good boy, however, because as he said,

"This is the 4th time I've lied. The first time was when you told me to put away the Killer Bunnies game, but I didn't want to, so I gave the empty box to you and told you I'd put the cards away. The second was when I said I'd do something, but didn't do it. The third was...I don't remember. And now I told you that I didn't have the marbles when I really did."

My sweet boy!

We snuggled and cuddled and talked about forgiveness. I told him that he is such a good boy--that is why he felt so terrible--he is used to feeling the Spirit, but when he did something wrong, the Spirit couldn't be there with him, so he couldn't feel the calm, peaceful feeling that he was used to. He asked me to say a prayer for him--he was still too ashamed to pray. So I did, and afterwards he said he felt better. I sent him downstairs with lots of "hugs and kisses", as he says.

The longer I'm a parent, the more I understand the Savior's admonition to "become as little children". Mason was purely penitent and without guile. He knew he had done wrong, and even though ashamed, came and confessed to me, his mother, knowing that I would still love him, and could help him out of his dark place.

Mason has incredible faith. He doesn't question that his prayers will be answered. Even when I'm doubting, Mason stands firm in his faith that Heavenly Father will answer his prayers.

What a kid. Who am I to raise such a stalwart spirit? I pray--with great faith--every day that I can have God's help in raising these remarkable children. My faith is great because I know that they are God's children as well as mine, and I know that He will help me help them make it home to Him.

Like our family song says:

We're gonna get there,
Get there together,
And be there forever with you!