Often life’s most important teachers come in small packages

 

Children release butterflies of hope

 

 

They say children are resilient. I hear this all the time when people ask me how my children are doing since the passing of their father. It is true they are resilient, seemingly more so than adults. But, why is that? What is it that helps them move through difficult situations and loss more effortlessly than we do? I was privileged this weekend to receive some insight into this question. I attended a bereavement camp for children with my two boys. The purpose of the camp was to help children who had lost a close family member deal with the loss and feel supported. Most of the children had lost a parent to one of the deadly plagues of our time – cancer, cardiovascular disease or depression.

 

The first night we gathered in a large circle of 28 children and a dozen adults to introduce ourselves and share our stories. I was struck by the depth of loss. A wave of heart-wrenching sadness hit me as each child shared their story of their lives being turned upside down by grief and loss.

I attended the camp to help my children heal from their profound loss, yet, what I found was healing of my own broken heart. It came in the form of inspiration from dozens of children who had experienced life-shattering loss, but who were picking themselves up, dusting themselves off and getting on with their lives.

One boy proudly showed me his drawing of a phoenix rising from the flames with a clear understanding of the metaphor and how it related to his life, and yet he was barely a decade old! Another youngster who had lost his father ran up and down the camp singing, “Hey soul sister…” all weekend long, filling the halls with hope and joy. A young girl who had lost her father generously shared her hugs and tried earnestly to meditate next to me on a pillow on the camp floor, just to share the experience. A young man who had lost his father just as he was just becoming a man himself was the leader and mentor to all the younger children in the camp. And a young boy, who had lost his mother and was afraid of the dark, helped me find my way down the long, dark path to the beach at night, with his light.

If an outsider had peaked into the camp, he or she would have seen a bunch of kids, running, laughing, getting into trouble, and basically being kids. They wouldn’t have noticed anything different about them. It reminded me of the time I had spent in Africa and Asia with Plan Canada. I met children who lived in extreme poverty, alongside war and in incredibly difficult circumstances. Yet, what I saw then and again last weekend was the incredible resiliency of children. Children are so filled with the inner drive to live in the moment, rather than the shadow of their past or the threat of a future filled with broken dreams. The forgiveness, the hope, and the open heartedness I experienced from the children then and now continue to astonish me.

I see this in my own two children everyday. My son recently told me about a classmate who was sad because her father was in Europe on a business trip and she missed him. He explained how he felt it was worse for him because he hadn’t seen his father in months, and wouldn’t again in his lifetime. As a mother, hearing this from my own child left me with a terrible sense of helplessness. Yet, what took my breath away with its profound sadness was forgotten by my son in the next breath when he asked me, “What’s for dinner mom?”

Children’s ability to be present, to live with open hearts, honestly, freely, with joy and play help them tremendously through loss. They are also more closely in touch with their intuition and come up with their own coping strategies. My other son who proclaims that, “He has decided not to be sad anymore” fills his life with play, adventure and fun. This I have discovered is his own intuitive sense helping him heal.

Before the weekend, my boys were my two heroes and life teachers. Now, I am fortunate to have met 26 other young heroes. It was inspiring and empowering to witness their courage. I feel very privileged to have experienced life lessons from these wise souls.

[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]