The other evening we were in a restaurant, seated across from a family of four. . .dad, mom, a girl, and a boy.  This restaurant caters to children and gives each a helium-filled balloon if they would like it.  Both these children had a balloon drifting close by.

The small boy appeared to be about six years old.  Late in the meal something made his balloon pop.  It obviously startled many of us in the vicinity, including the boy.  He sat there for several moments with a distressed look on his face, and after what seemed to be a valiant effort, he burst into tears and buried his head in his mother’s arm. 

Several adults around him, including both his parents, had laughed.  I couldn’t help wondering if he cried because he thought he wouldn’t get another balloon, or because it scared him, or perhaps because he was embarrassed by the laughter.  Not all children like that kind of attention being focused on them.  This child could have felt very self-conscious.

If he was embarrassed, it is really unfortunate that all those adults added to it.  Each of them might have hoped their laughter showed the boy it was OK.  Each might have laughed simply because they were startled and were reacting to the innocent reason for it.  Each one may have had perfectly harmless intentions in their laughter.  But should we assume that children interpret all laughter as fun, because that was the intent?  Should we assume a child will understand what our intention is?  If we could, instead, react with empathy, we might choose to stifle the guffaws. 

It’s not easy to always put yourself in another’s shoes, but our children deserve to have us always try.

What lies in our power to do,
it lies in our power not to do.

                                  Aristotle

We hope your day is filled with joy,

Lana Keating