A Letter To My Grown Son

Sometimes you wonder, did I raise him right? Did I teach him well?  When no one is looking, does he do the right thing?  This child of mine whose room is a wreck, who sometimes sleeps until noon, whose hair needs a little work. The child who stays up too late, leaves the milk out, who's mischievous grin means you've just been pranked.

That one who always carries his phone but doesn't always answer your texts, who leaves all the lights on when he leaves for work, the one who "is a grown-up now, MOM…."

Yes, son, yes you are.  

When you told me what you did, I was a little shocked, and thankful nothing bad had happened.  You are too young to see the danger, but what you saw was more.  

You saw a man in the rain, curled up in the corner against a building.  You didn't look away like I do.  You didn't make assumptions. You saw his suffering. You talked to him, found out his story, you took him in your car.  You gave him words of encouragement and drove him to a hotel. You put him up for a night with the small amount of money a college kid has. 

You saw him.

Maybe all that man needed was to be heard, to feel that he mattered, to truly be seen. You showed him compassion. You looked into his eyes and didn't turn away.  You saw a worthy soul despite his dirty exterior.

The years have made me callous and I wince when I think that I probably would have kept on walking. Been afraid even. Sizing up his situation without even hearing his one word.  Even with my flawed example, you have flourished and I am proud. 

'Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God.’

You saw him.

Yes, you are now grown, my son with the pure heart.

And I truly see you. 

Don't tell him, but this kid has Elizabeth wrapped around his finger.

Love you guys!  

Love,

Elizabeth