Working Together - A Labor of Love

Working Together

(Sadly,  since I wrote this a year or two ago,  we lost Grandma)

As a child growing up in rural Vermont, there were some chores I hated doing,

and, yet, for some reason I have this strange compulsion to drag my kids through

the same motions I so despised in my childhood. Why? Because now I see these

experiences as valuable.

This past weekend, while my husband and daughter were out on a father-daughter

trip, I spent the afternoon with my boys, ages 7 and 9, stacking wood for my

parents. There have been times when the kids have balked at the idea of manual

labor, but on this particular day they were amenable to participating. It was a

beautiful sunny, but chilly, day and perfect for such an activity. We went with

Grandpa to fix the tractor , but as daylight waned we decided to use more old

fashioned methods instead. The boys cooperated (a rare sight between

brothers in our household) to fill a dolly with wood and transport it across the

dirt road. My youngest, in little brother fashion, tried to one-up his big brother in

strength, but had to accept the fact that his brother had two years on him which

was not going to be ignored.

For a while, my 7 year old helped stack wood in the basement. He made a game

of it and started trying to see how many logs he could throw in before I grabbed the

next one to stack. Later, while I collected wheelbarrows full to add to the pile, he

showed me a marvelous stack that impressed me, and him. He was so proud of his

work, celebrating the sense of mastery he felt over a job well done. He didn't even

need praise from me, although I acknowledged the size of the stack he had built.

I left him to finish his work and went to look for his brother who was shirking in the

kitchen. After a bit of coaxing, my older son came with me to add to the stacks in

the woodshed. While he worked, he talked about the exercise we were getting

from all this work and mused: “Ya know, we don't do this to get rewarded, we do

this to help out the family; to be out on this nice day and so Grandma and Grandpa

will be warm”. All of this came not from me, but from the act of putting in some

good honest work. Sometimes, as a busy parent,  I forget how these experiences

provide, all by themselves, a sense of accomplishment, mastery and strength. Had

I paid the kids or even tried to sell the activity as a “good deed,” the point that didn't

need to be made would not, in fact, have been made at all.

As I worked, I thought to myself how thankful I am to have such an experience

to share with my children. As I breathed the fresh, crisp air that was infused with

woodsmoke and looked at the setting sun over the mountain, I thought about how

valuable this whole experience was and on how it was right on so many levels. It

would be a challenge to conjure up an activity that could rival this one for teaching

self-esteem, healthy exercise, the value of hard work and giving to others. And

the best thing of all is that it was free. Plus, when it was too dark to work, we

went inside and had endless cups of tea and chocolate-covered tea biscuits with

Grandma and Grandpa.