Good old work

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not so fond of work, but despite my reluctance to work, I appreciate it's value. I recently listened to an interview with Marvin J Ballard (one of the leaders of our church, for those who aren't familiar). The interviewer was asking about families and Elder Ballard was talking about how families don't work together like they used to, and how important it is to teach our kids the value of work. This weekend I had a great experience with this first hand.

Kenyan was instructed to weed the dirt area that follows along the fence in our back yard (a not-so-big space). It's only about 18 inches wide, with a larger area in 2 of the corners. He put off the job and Adam sent him out to do it in the evening. He came in after dark (he was wearing a headlamp,and there are lights out there), proclaiming that he was done. Adam gave him the option of going back out and making sure the job was done, or being grounded for the next week. Kenyan was sure he was done. The next day things didn't look as good as he thought. I decided I obviously hadn't done a very good job teaching him to weed, and that I should work out there with him and show him how to do it. At first I "showed" him, and sent him off to do the big corner section while I worked on another section. He had an unusual approach which included shoveling out all the weeds and dirt into a big pile. I started making suggestions which were immediately rejected, and decided that he could just figure it out by his own self, since he wasn't interested in my very experienced weeding wisdom. After a while he came over and said that he though it would be better if we worked together.

We ended up working side by side, and it took a while, but I realized that the weeding wasn't the most important part of the experience. We were able to talk about things that would normally come in the form of a lecture from me, but when you're both on your knees, digging in the dirt there is a sort of comaraderie that develops. The lecture became a conversation that developed normally. I would ask him a question, and instead of "I don't know" which is the answer he gives when he doesn't know what I want to hear, he was able to answer naturally and ask questions back. Whether he learned the finer points of digging out dandelion roots or not doesn't really matter, in fact, if he didn't we'll have another opportunity to weed together! I started out with a grouchy, frustrated teenager, who wasn't interested in doing it any way but his own, and ended up with an agreeable, even cheerful, fellow gardener who admitted that he actually enjoyed himself. I am thankful for that experience.