Planting Patience

Lenten Reflections #29

Yesterday, I asked a kindergarten class to share one highlight of their weekend. As we went around the circle, there were stories about lost teeth, the new Minecraft movie, sleepovers, lacrosse games won, and soccer goals missed.

When it was Gigi’s turn, she sat up a little higher on her knees. Her pensive, smiling blue eyes squinted as she announced loudly, “I planted seeds in my garden! Peas, tomatoes, lettuce, green beans, and peppers…but we need to wait patiently before they grow.” Gigi is five, and she understands patience.

Patience is a lost art. Like writing letters. Or phone calls. Or cursive.

When I grew up, patience meant waiting in line for confession every Saturday, the Albuquerque Journal in the morning, or Ted Koppel on the evening news. Patience was waiting for a cassette to rewind so you could listen to your favorite song again and for a TV special like “Charlie Brown’s Christmas” to air every 365 days. Patience was shaking a Polaroid picture to see the magic it brought.

According to Pamela Davis-Kean, a professor of psychology at the University of Michigan by age 6 or 7, kids begin understanding the concept of patience as they think about their own behavior and the consequences of their behavior.

Kids aren’t born with patience. It’s a quality they develop over time.

“We live in a social world, and we can’t have everything we want when we want it — that’s where patience and self-control come in,” says Pamela Cole, a professor of psychology and human development at Penn State. “The years between toddlerhood and kindergarten are critical for developing patience.”

So when I heard Gigi say she needed to wait for the seeds to grow, I felt grateful. Grateful for forbearance from a five-year-old and especially grateful for a renaissance of the ability to wait.

What I learned:

Sometimes, five-year-olds are more brilliant and cognizant of the world around them than the rest of us.

Go plant your garden!

“The day you plant the seed is not the day you eat the fruit. Be patient and stay the course.” —Fabienne Fredrickson

Here’s to Another Good Day.

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia