I am amazed by the hope and joy my two and half year old gives me on a day like today… a day when 50 individuals are gunned down by senseless violence. A day when 50 individual lives are taken because they were hated for who they loved. A day when it is hard to see the hope and love.
On Friday I told Keaton if he listened while we were eating breakfast and getting ready, we would stop at the new donut store on our way to school. He got so excited and he immediately said, I want to take my donut to school…. and…. and… I want to take donuts to all my friends at school. My heart melted a little, ok a lot. I said that is a great idea! We will take donut holes for everyone in the class.
As Matthew, Keaton, and I headed to the donut store Keaton’s excitement brought me unbelievable joy. As we walked in the door, he said loudly, I need donuts for my friends at school. He then wanted to hold the bag of donuts as we drove the short few blocks to school. He did eat one donut on the way, but he clinched the bag so tightly as we got out of the car and walked into the building. As we walked into the classroom full of rambunctious and happy kids, we asked the teacher and director if he could pass out his donuts. They said yes and called all the kids to sit down. Slowly Keaton pulled a donut out for each kid. He handed each kid one… or two. He continued until everyone in the class had one.
As we kissed him goodbye and started to walk to the car, I had a proud mom moment, actually it was probably the proudest I have been of him. Not only did he first think of sharing, which is really difficult for a two year old, but he wanted to share with everyone. He gave a donut to each person in the room. He didn’t care that the boy who was mean to him yesterday got a donut. He didn’t care the kids with a different skin color got a donut. He could care less that some of the students’ families practice a certain religion, they all got donuts. He didn’t care because that was not his focus. His focus was on the pure joy of sharing his donuts. In such a small act, my son, just at two years old, showed more compassion and genuine love than most adults, including myself do today. Donut holes were not given with judgement or grudge. Donut holes were given because how could he not share the pure pleasure of a sugary treat. And while it might seem trivial to think donut holes are comparable to our “adult” world, donut holes are where it starts. He cared more about the act of sharing than who was receiving… that is love in its truest form.
My hope for my son, for me, for us all, is that we can find it in our hearts to love out of the place of loving because we want to share the joy and love that is abundant for all, not just the ones we deem worthy. May we all return to the innocence of a child who just wants to share his donut holes.