Paying it forward

My two sad sisters and a flat tire

“I have a flat tire!” my sister wailed, flailing her arms as she ran toward my car. She was trying to wave us down before we drove out of the parking lot. My sisters and I had intentionally tried to avoid the snarly L.A. traffic by staying at Santa Monica Beach until evening. Now, after a full day of activity with more than a dozen tired and hungry teenage nieces and nephews, our trip home would be further delayed. However, instead of complaining, the four strapping young boys in my car immediately started taking on the problem as their own. “I’m a Boy Scout!” and “We know what to do,” and “We’ve got this, guys!” they shouted. I pulled over, the doors flew open, and out jumped our ad hoc repair crew.

The AAA Emergency Roadside Service guy eventually showed up, but it was those boys—those wonderful boys—who did most of the work.

Hail, Grant, the conquering hero!

Personally, I know little about repairing cars, so I was really thankful for Scout leaders, an auto mechanics instructor, and others who had taught the boys things I hadn’t. Unfortunately, those leaders and teachers didn’t get to see those boys in action; instead, my sisters and I were the recipients of their knowledge. That day our boys were paying it forward.

As parents, we spend years trying to help our children knock off their barnacles of bad behavior. Some days, we can't help but wonder how they’ll turn out. Then something almost miraculous happens: they become really fun, interesting, caring adults. Sadly, this tends to happen around the time they leave home, right around the time we're no longer having to assign them jobs and check to see if they've made curfew. It's that wonderful time when we can safely be their friends and not just their parents.

Our missionary son Craig

Today, for instance, after 19 years of growing with us, our delightful son Craig left to serve a two-year mission in Argentina. With him, he’s taking his cheerful disposition and fun-loving nature as well as lessons learned from us, from others, and from life itself. All these things will help him love and teach people he has not even met yet. He'll be more prepared to help them change their lives in profound ways. He’s about to start paying it forward. 

When I returned home from my own mission to Paraguay, I felt transformed, to some degree, as many missionaries do after such an intense service/learning experience. Mistakenly, I thought my changed nature, newfound skills, and earned wisdom would be most valuable to my immediate family. But that was not the case. In fact, even though I felt different inside and, I daresay, had become a better person, no one seemed to notice much. Even I had a difficult time summing up the experiences that brought me to that point.

Talking to a friend of mine about this, I learned an important truth. “Your parents and family probably won’t be the beneficiaries of the changes you’ve made,” he said. “More likely, over time, your future spouse and children will profit from the mission experiences that have shaped you.” He was right. At 22 years old, I wouldn’t be spending much more time with my parents. Instead, I would take into my future home some traits and lessons I once lacked. I couldn’t go back in time and be a better sister or a more thoughtful, mature teenage daughter. I would have to pay it forward to my own husband and children.

So, on it goes. While we help one grow and learn, another person helps us improve and change. In one way or another, we’re all paying it forward every day.