My ten year old, the youngest of my four daughters, attended a day camp at church last week. She had the time of her life – the staff did a great job, lighting her fire in all the right ways. There was a zip line. There were very serious and heated chant competitions between the boys and the girls. As it has always been, and forevermore shall be at camp. Hashtag Team Girls 4EVER!!!!! (CUP THE HANDS AROUND THE MOUTH IT MAKES THE SOUND TRAVEL!!! Also bend your knees and yell from the BELLY!!!! Resort to tripping only when absolutely necessary.). It was pretty epic.
On the last day after the closing ceremony, after we were herded out of the building like the cattle we are and headed home, I heard some tiny sobs coming from the back seat. I was surprised. “Why are you crying?” I asked her. (On a side note. I really should get this phrase tattooed on my body somewhere after raising four girls. Maybe on my tombstone? We’ll see.). “I think I’m sad because it’s over.” She decided. “But mostly I’m sad because I wasn’t the Bumblebee. I tried so hard to be the Bumblebee. I really thought I had a good shot.”
The Bumblebee is an all-camp award that is given to a girl and a boy that demonstrated high character throughout the week.
As we mothers do, I tilted the rear view mirror down so I could see her face behind me. What I saw was a heartbroken little gal wearing a sweaty t-shirt, two messy buns, and a tear stained face.
“Okay. But my question for you is this: Do you think the girl that got it was deserving?” I asked her.
** Longest silence in the history of silences**
“Yes.” She finally said.
“Well then, that’s good, right? Let’s try really hard to be happy for her.” I said.
“I am happy for her. I’m just sad for myself.” She said.
And there it is, my friends. The golden nugget of walking the emotional tightrope called Life. Because it’s hard, really hard, being happy for others while you’re sad for yourself – especially when we so desperately want for ourselves what they have.
And we can be both, and we are both, often.
Then, how do we get the balance to fall heavy on the “Happy for Others” side? We know what’s right – to be unselfish – but we are wired for self preservation. To me, the answer undoubtedly lies within contentment and self-worth. It’s truly easy – and so much FUN – to be sincerely happy for others success when you are at peace inside yourself… and that pendulum can swing to both ends. I have yet to meet someone that has felt contentment and inner peace all the days of their lives. It kind of seems like we all take our turns on both ends of this spectrum.
I often tell my daughters to seek out those that are truly happy for you when things go right, not just those that comfort you when things go wrong. And be that friend in return. It’s definitely interesting to watch how that unfolds with girls, especially teenagers, over time. And man do I value it when I see it in my daughters friends, and in my own life with mine. I know what a rare treasure it is, to find someone that is genuinely thrilled for me when I have a success. It’s important, and validating. It’s what keeps the wind in our sails. It’s what true love actually looks like.
I love these words:
A candle losing nothing from lighting another candle.
What a force we would be as women if we could champion one another, and teach our daughters to do the same. I can honestly say some of my proudest moments as a mom is when I see my girls cheering on their friends. When their gladness is transparent and genuine and real… Well, that’s just the coolest.
My kid is one of the girls cheering her brains out for her friend.
She competed in the same category, but this was her friend’s day. PROUD AS HECK.
Photo: Margo Kersten
Given enough time and patience and endurance, we will hopefully all have our little moment in the sun, the day when we are called up to the stage to get to be the Bumblebee. In the meantime, lets be the one holding up the poster for our friend that’s taking a chance. Run along side the friend that’s in the final grind of her personal marathon that is oh so tired, and saying to them “Don’t stop. You’re so close. Keep going.” Whispering words of encouargement to the friend thats walking up to the starting blocks to start her race – this is always the scariest time – take it from me, who is in the weeds of this moment in time, and has lapped up the words of support from her friends like a thirsty Golden Retriever a hot summer day.
The small things always become the big things when we think back on times before. Words matter. They have always mattered.
For what it’s worth? My youngest daughter, the Not-Bumblebee, got the Barnabas Award for her group at camp. Everyone gets something, and she was seen as ‘The Encourager’. Not the Bumblebee. But the one standing and clapping for the Bumblebee. We’ll take it.
