Being A Violet

We read a lot of books in our family.
I used to read to my children all the time.
They had their favorite books.
I had mine.

Their favorite books usually prevailed.
It wasn’t their fault that I had read the book a thousand times before.
With each child, the story was new, refreshing, and in many cases applicable.
That was the case with one particular book.

Timothy Goes To School by Rosemary Wells was one such book.
Timothy was a raccoon who wore a special sun suit on the first day of school.
It was special because his mother made it for him.
It was disastrous because another classmate, who did everything perfectly, wore a jacket.

Timothy went home deflated.
His mother suggested that he wear a jacket the next day.
Unfortunately, he got it wrong again.
His perfect classmate wore casual clothes which are expected on the second day.

His mother helped ease Timothy’s pain.
Tomorrow, you just wear something in-between like everyone else.

Timothy just couldn’t get it right.
There was always the perfect classmate who seemed to be one step ahead.
Timothy didn’t like school until he met Violet.
Violet was having the same problems with her own perfect classmate.

Timothy and Violet both found strength and acceptance in each other.
They became the best of friends.
They secretly hoped that their perfect classmates would make a mistake.
They never did.

We can all relate.
We wear something casual to a party only to find it was a dress-up occasion.
You wear your high heels to an outdoor event and find that you are sinking in the grass.
You don’t think you need to bring an umbrella for a few clouds and then the deluge comes.

There is always someone who seems to get the memo.
There is always someone who seems to be an expert at everything.
There is always someone who has done it better, faster, cheaper, or more often than you.
There is always someone.

We need a Violet.
We need some motherly advice to just wear something in-between.
We need to find that one friend with whom we can find strength and acceptance.
We need to realize that even the most perfect people feel insecure at one time or another.

When my oldest daughter went to preschool, I was clueless.
I didn’t know of anyone who had walked where I was walking.
I needed to find someone just a bit older to show me the way.
Even in the little things, I needed guidance.

I had her apple nametag pinned appropriately to her dress on the first day.
I had her bigger-than-she-was backpack ready for her.
Almost weightless, it had tissues, crayons, and an index card with emergency numbers.
I followed the beginning of school directions to the letter.

We went along the first part of the year just fine.
Papers came home and were immediately hung on the refrigerator.
A lunch box, with her favorite snack, went to school with her on the designated day.
I grew more confident by the minute.

I got this, was my motto, that is, until Christmas time.

All the children came to preschool carrying gifts.
Many were homemade.
Some were store bought.
My daughter carried nothing in her hands.

They had sent a paper home about gifts, parties, and invitations.
If you don’t have something for everyone, you may not bring anything to school.
Invitations are to be mailed, not handed out; we don’t want anyone to feel left out.
On and on it went.

I was so concerned about leaving anyone out, I either did nothing or I did everything.
This was a nothing occasion.
I did not have a gift for everyone, so I did not bring one for the teacher either.
I couldn’t believe the pile of presents on the teacher’s desk.

I think my mistake was missed on my daughter.
She seemed oblivious to her mother’s oversight.
I carried enough disappointment for both of us; if only I had known.
How did other first-time mothers know what to do?

I came home and called my neighbor, who was an elementary school teacher.
Are you supposed to get presents for preschool teachers?
That’s usually done, she said calmly.
I wish I had asked you that yesterday, I said with a catch in my voice.

It’s your first child, she said.
You’re not expected to know everything.

My Violet!

Likewise, teach older women to be reverent in the way they live, not to be slanderers or addicted to much wine, but to teach what is good. Then they can train the younger women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled and pure, to be busy at home, to be kind, and to be subject to their husbands, so that no one will malign the word of God. (Titus 2:3-5)

From that time on, I asked questions when I was not sure.
I found that older woman who walked where I was walking.
I picked her brain, if necessary.
I watched her life.

Now, I am that older woman to many young moms.
It is a privilege to be a little further on in my journey.
I am a little further down the road so I can help those that are at the starting gate.
It is the privilege of being a mentor.

We all need a Violet.
Either find yourself one or be one.
We cannot do this journey alone; someone has already walked where you are walking.
Learn from them as you watch their life closely.

Pray for a mentor, a Violet.
God delights in providing them for us.
One-anothering is so important to Him.
We all need a mentor that loves God first and will help you walk in His ways.

Who is your Violet?
Who needs you to be their Violet?
Pray. God will show you.