A change of perspective
I’ve spent most of my life keeping company with children—from my teenage summers as a camp counselor, to my years as a day-care provider and pre-school teacher, to raising my own three children. Working with children, either professionally or as a parent, is the most wonderful (and the most challenging) occupation imaginable.
Over the years, as I’ve met with trying circumstances in the classroom or within the family, I’ve often found it helpful to look at a situation from a new perspective. Let me offer an example. When our third child was born, our second child was not at all thrilled to be presented with a baby sister. She had insisted that we have another brother in the family, and when a sister came along instead, she was pretty disappointed. By the time baby sister was three years old, big sister was having a hard time in her third grade class and an even harder time at home. As a mom who had tried to preach and practice love in our family, I was mystified when our daughter would stalk up to me and snarl, “I hate you, Mommy,” for no apparent reason. I was also stymied by her behavior in school, where her teacher told me that she had been taking items from the classroom without permission. Anyone who knows my dear daughter would be amazed to hear that she had ever been unpleasant at any point in her life, but at the time, I began to despair that I was a bad mother who was raising a bad child.
One evening, after all three children had been put to bed, I was tidying up in the bathroom when I happened to glance at a bottle of shampoo on the edge of the tub. It had the word protein printed on it, and I noticed that half of the letters of the word were printed in gold and half were printed in brown. Finding this odd, I leaned closer to take a second look and immediately saw that all the letters were now gold. Because of the point of view from which I’d looked at the bottle, the light caught the letters differently. It suddenly occurred to me that I needed to look at the situation with my daughter from a different perspective as well. Rather than seeing myself as the bad mother of a bad child, I needed to see that my daughter and I were both the beloved, wholly good children of our mutual Mother, God.
As a Christian Scientist, I had always thought of God as both Father and Mother. Every evening, I prayed aloud with my son and daughters a verse called “Mother’s New Year Gift to the Little Children” written by Mary Baker Eddy, which begins “Father-Mother God, Loving me …” (Poems, p. 69 ). Just this simple reminder that God is the loving Mother of us all brought such a tremendous sense of relief! I no longer felt a need to figure out what was “wrong” with my daughter and “fix” it. I knew I only needed to place her—and myself—in the care of our heavenly Mother, and to refuse to see either of us as anything other than God’s loved and loving child. That night, I went to sleep feeling completely peaceful about my daughter and our relationship to each other and to God.
I needed to see that my daughter and I were both the beloved children of our mutual Mother, God.
This change in perspective in my thinking allowed a complete change of atmosphere in our home. In the Christian Science textbook, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, Mary Baker Eddy explains this phenomenon: “Christian Science acts as an alterative, neutralizing error with Truth. … The effect of this Science is to stir the human mind to a change of base, on which it may yield to the harmony of the divine Mind” (p. 162 ). The very next day, my daughter’s behavior was free from any evidence of anger. In fact, I was delighted to see her actually skipping around the house singing, “I love Mommy, I love Mommy!” Her actions at school normalized as well. My daughter and I have continued in a very loving relationship, and now, as two adults, we are the best of friends. Incidentally, my younger daughter (the baby mentioned earlier) also has a very close and loving relationship with her older sister and with me.
This stirring of “the human mind to a change of base” also had a healing effect in the classroom. A number of years ago when I was teaching a four-year-old preschool class, there was a little fellow in the class (let’s call him Bobby) who seemed prone to violent behavior. He would often throw books and knock over furniture in the classroom. Worse than that, he would hurt the other children in the class, shoving them or punching them in the stomach. Whenever this violent behavior was exhibited (which was several times a day), I would put my arms around Bobby and tell him that I knew he was a good boy who did not ever want to hurt his friends. He would always calm down and go back to playing, but the next time another child irritated him by grabbing a toy or getting in his way, he would lash out violently once again.
Finally, it got to the point where parents of other children were calling and telling me that their son or daughter was afraid to come to school because of Bobby’s actions. I knew that it just wasn’t fair to the other children, or to Bobby, for this behavior to continue. One morning soon after, Bobby once again punched one of the other boys in the stomach. This time, instead of putting my arms around him from behind, I knelt in front of Bobby and looked directly into his eyes, saying loudly enough for all the other children to hear, “You may not hurt anyone in this classroom.”
As those words were coming out of my mouth, I suddenly saw the whole situation from a different perspective. I was instantly reminded of a Bible story that I had read in the Bible Lesson that morning. The story relates that Jesus was interacting with a “multitude” of people, when “there came to him a certain man, kneeling down to him, and saying, Lord, have mercy on my son: for he is lunatic, and sore vexed: … And Jesus rebuked the devil; and he departed out of him: and the child was cured from that very hour” (see Matthew 17:14–18 ).
In the Glossary of Science and Health, devil is defined in part as “evil; a lie; … the opposite of Truth; a belief in sin, sickness, and death” (p. 584 ). I realized that my words—“You may not hurt anyone in this classroom”—were not directed at this innocent four-year-old child, but at the lie that a child of God could be hateful or harmful. I saw that this lie could not hurt any of the children, including Bobby. It was also clear to me that I could demand with confidence that this devilish behavior never raise its head again in our classroom. I knew that the presence of God, good, must preclude all evidence of evil.
This change of perspective—identifying the source of the difficulty as a lie about God’s child, and not as the child himself—brought about a rapid and marked transformation. I can honestly say that Bobby never again harmed another child or acted out in violence in our classroom. The other children began to notice and comment on his new mode of behavior, and we all rejoiced in this new freedom. Bobby’s improved behavior carried over into his home life as well, and his dad called me one day, saying, “I don’t know what you’ve been doing with him at school, but my son is like a new person!”
In her collected Miscellaneous Writings 1883–1896, Mrs. Eddy said, “Neither material finesse, standpoint, nor perspective guides the infinite Mind and spiritual vision that should, does, guide His children” (p. 373 ). How wonderful to know that we can bring our own perspective into line with this infinite Mind, God, and witness how He does “guide His children” into good and loving behavior every day.
