(I read this a long time ago... I don't know who wrote it... I sure wish I had... I raise my kids the exact same way as this passage... and I am sooo glad I do...)
The other day, someone at a store read that a
methamphetamine lab had been found in an old farm
house in the adjoining county and he asked me a
rhetorical question. "Why didn't we have a drug
problem when you and I were growing up?"
I responded that we did have a drug problem when we
were kids growing up on the farm or in the city. I had
a drug problem when I was young: I was drug to church
on Sunday morning. I was drug to church for weddings
and funerals. I was drug to family reunions and
community socials no matter the weather. I was drug by
my ears when I was disrespectful to adults. I was also
drug to the woodshed when I disobeyed my parents, told
a lie, brought home a bad report card, did not speak
with respect, spoke ill of the teacher or the
preacher. Or if I didn't put forth my best effort in
everything that was asked of me. I was drug to the
kitchen sink if I uttered a profane four letter word.
(I do know what soap tastes like.) I was drug out to
pull weeds in mom's garden and flower beds and
cockleburs out of dad's fields. I was drug to the
homes of family, friends, and neighbors to help out
some poor soul who had no one, to mow the yard, repair
the clothesline or chop some fire wood, and if my
mother had ever known that I took a single dime as a
tip for this kindness, she would have drug me back to
the wood shed.
Those drugs are still in my veins and they affect my
behavior in everything I do, say and think. They are
stronger than cocaine,crack or heroin, and if today's
children had this kind of drug problem, America might
be a better place today.
Amen to this, my friend, amen!!
ReplyDeleteLOE that!
ReplyDeleteAmen sister!
ReplyDelete