"Actions Have Consequences, Dear Children".

The decision was made to run away. ... It seemed like the right thing to do. Though only in grade two, he'd had enough. Nothing seemed to be going his way. ... I listened, as he spoke, feeling so sad for his present state of anxiety and upset. (His solution to leave seemed reasonable, according to him) ... We spoke for a while. I could not dissuade him from leaving .... It was time to go. 

Some things were near and dear to him. They would need to accompany him on his flight to freedom.   A large vintage suitcase was found to house the items he wanted to take with him: toys, teddies and other important things. His height would make carrying this suitcase somewhat difficult, I added. He understood but was not deterred. I counselled him as to what to expect once he was on the road. He was not deterred.

While walking about, albeit alone, our dear little boy would be noticed, I said. "All children walking alone on a street would be". He was a little person, not an adult. "Children are never left alone, unless they are 12 or 13, old enough to babysit". 

"Being alone on the street would garner a lot of attention, maybe, the police", I continued. If he changed his mind, once he left, things would be out of his control. He could not come back, just like that, I continued. Any story he would tell the police would have to be investigated thoroughly. He might live with other people while the authorities checked out his family life and his parents. It could take weeks, months or longer. I didn't know. ... He left. ... I closed the door and locked it as he moved towards the driveway. 

I watched intently through the glass panel at the top of the front door. I prayed he would rescind his decision to leave before reaching the road. .. (I was ready to pounce, like a mother lion, to stop our son from entering the busy road in front of our house, if necessary.) ... As he moved, he began to kick the stones in the driveway, leaving the suitcase by the house.. It was a time for reflection. ... He looked back at me. ... Soon, it would be supper. ... We could talk again. ... He could unpack later. ...

It was the end of another hectic school day as our little guys prepared themselves for bedtime. ...At this juncture in their lives, they all shared one large bedroom, bunk beds all around. ... Their day had been awash with things to talk about and laugh about, I could hear. I was downstairs when the giggling and incessant talking began. 'Guys, please be quiet. You need sleep”-when I arrived on the scene- for the first time. It was 8:30 p.m.then. ... 

Three little boys trying to sleep with one of them always engaged in colourful conversation with the other two was not easy. How could things be any different, though? They liked each other's company. ...”Guys, please, it is getting late. You need sleep. Remember, wake up time is 7:00 a.m”, I remarked, on my second trip upstairs. “The school bus will not wait for tardy little boys who can't wake up”, I added. “And the principal will not be happy when I speak to him and tell him everything!” Still, it continued. I went downstairs thinking the 'noise' would stop, soon. Nothing I had said seemed to matter, though. On my third and final visit, I gave in to their 'silent' demand to stay up past their school day bedtime. ... ( I was tired of  the travelling and they were reasonable, sensible boys, even now at 11 and under.) 

With no signs of their conversations winding down and my patience running low, I decided to give them what they secretly wanted - a party! The lights and music went on, the furniture 'rearranged' to suit the event unfolding this night and a resounding, “Party,” marked the beginning of the end.   I left, closing the door behind me. Ten minutes later, a final visit to the room showed my thinking had worked. Everything was back to normal. Lights were out and all were sleeping, the end to another busy day.


We had entered Harvey's, a popular Canadian fast food eatery for our special weekend treat. It was a nice change of pace. ... Inside, we went our separate ways to wash our hands before seating ourselves at one of the many booths in this small location. ... “What was all that commotion”?, I wondered when my husband and I met again outside the washrooms? To my dismay, the noise was our sons, the people with whom we had just walked in! There was no way to disguise ourselves and there was no turning back. ... Leaving the restaurant, now, was our only option. 

Everyone knew that these loud, inconsiderate young men-in-training, older and more mature than ever, belonged to us!! What were they thinking? As the boys approached us with that certain look of delight on their faces, the sad reality soon became apparent to them. We were leaving. A lesson for the future was now underway: conduct yourselves accordingly in public or else. We drove to another location where I ordered my simple lunch for takeout. (Dad was content to eat at home with them.) There would be a next time- just not today! As always, mom and dad always followed through when they did not! Dining out was a privilege not a right! ... Now they knew.

Valuable life lessons or learning gems abound for children. ...Helping them see the possibilities makes their future decisions easier, more meaningful, sensible and truthful. ...