When my youngest was three years old, our family went to a barbecue at my oldest son’s high school. My husband drove his work van so he could bring grilles, food, and my oldest to help out, and I drove our station wagon with the rest of the boys.
When the day came to a close and we walked back to the parking lot, the youngest said, “I want to go with daddy.” I explained there was no room in the van for him so he had to go with me. It didn’t matter. His request soon became a high-pitched whining, accompanied by feet dragging. “I want to go with daddy!”
I pulled him along and tried to put him in his car seat, but he hooked his little fingers around the metal track on the roof of the car. I struggled to dislodge his fingers with one hand and with the other, I tried to get him in the car, all the while with him screaming, “I want to go with daaaaaadddddyyy!”
A monk from the school was passing by so I elicited his help, asking him to pry my son's fingers loose from the track while I pushed him into his car seat. He agreed and made a valiant effort, though at one point he pleaded with me, “Why don’t you just let him go with his dad?”
I laughed.
Once my son was secured, and I could close the door on his whining, I explained to the monk that, first of all, there really was no room, and most importantly, if I gave in to my son’s request simply to avoid an uncomfortable situation I would pay for it in the long run and my son would learn he never had to accept no for an answer.
He said he understood my reasons, but wondered how I had the patience to deal with it without losing my temper.
“I’ve had 17 years to practice.” I said, and shared a very useful insight from Bishop Fulton J. Sheen: “Patience is power. Patience is not an absence of action; rather it is ‘timing.’ It waits on the right time to act, for the right principles and in the right way.”
“Now is the time,” I said. “If I respond with anger, frustration, or yelling, I could reinforce the very behavior I want to nip in the bud. And who wants another 15 years with a bad-tempered child?”
He chuckled, and as a religious and a person who has worked for years with boys going through their adolescent years, I knew he understood that patience, as a fruit of the Holy Spirit, grows as we grow in our desire to know God.
But, as lessons do not always take effect immediately, back at the barbeque we were in for a bumpy ride on the way home. I was forced to keep my finger on the close button of the automatic lock because my determined little toddler kept unlocking his door and trying to open it with the intent of getting out to “go with daddy!”
When we finally got home and got him out of the car, he threw himself on the ground and refused to go into the house. His brothers each grabbed an arm or leg and carried him into the kitchen where they deposited him on the kitchen floor.
His tantrum continued until he realized there was no one there watching him. We sat in the living room, trying to suppress muffled laughter. When he found his audience, he promptly threw himself on the ground again. It would have made a great social media video.
Learning and practicing patience is an ongoing effort. Even now, I still have to remember the value of patience in any situation. In retrospect, I will admit that those times when I lost my patience, especially as a parent, grandparent, or in a relationship, are those times I regret the most. Harsh words, impetuous decisions, and hurtful behavior might have been avoided if I remembered one simple mantra more often: Patience is power.
Mary Regina Morrell, mother of six and grandmother to nine, is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.