Megan hung her head. Her face was sad. She spoke very quietly, “I had a big oops today.”
For context, a few weeks ago we started asking our kids three questions, usually at dinner.
How were you brave today? How were you kind today? How did you fail today?
They have become regular conversation for us. At least once a day, I hear, “Mommy, I have my kind thing!” or “Mommy, I was brave today!” It’s pretty cool, and it has opened up much better conversations about their days than just “How was school?” ever did. (And I cannot take credit for this. It came from this article.)
So we’ve been asking these things for awhile. And to be honest, the third question has been the hardest. They didn’t get the concept of “fail” very well. I explained it as an “oops.” Anything you say or do or think that afterwards you think, “Oops, I shouldn’t have done that.” Or “Oops, I should have done that differently.” So we have “oops” moments. And it works. But mostly our “oops” things are breaking a pencil or falling down or dropping something. And I’ve wondered if they were really getting the concept. Until Wednesday. That’s when Megan spoke up.
She hung her head. She dropped her voice. She looked very sad. She said, “I made a big oops today.”
“What happened?” I asked, seeing the seriousness of this answer.
“I was very not kind. I said something I shouldn’t have.” Turns out she’d had a fight with a little boy on the playground. And she’d told him she would never, ever be his friend again. It wasn’t earth-shattering. But she’d been unkind, and she knew it. And the whole thing had settled uncomfortably in her heart. She hurt over her mistake.
“I see,” I said. “Well, I’m glad you told me. And I’m glad you see how that wasn’t kind.” We talked about how God nudges our hearts when we fail, especially when we hurt someone else. “What do you think you need to do?”
“Say I’m sorry,” she said.
“I think you’re right. And that’s the neat thing about seeing an oops. We can ask God to forgive us. We can ask the other person to forgive us, and then we can let it go. It doesn’t mess us up forever.”
She nodded, and we went on with dinner. And then last night at dinner, she said in between bites of bread and chicken, “I told Gage that I was sorry today and I would be his friend. And he said he was sorry and he’d be my friend, too.”
“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that!” I said. “And I’m so proud of you for doing the hard thing and saying you’re sorry. It was very brave of you.” She grinned at me, clearly settled again.
And I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen, especially in this volatile election season, if we grown-ups had the same sense as our littles. To see how we’ve hurt others when we accuse and call names and refuse to “be friends” with each other in all our grown-up ways. And having seen our “oops,” simply to apologize and to accept another’s apology, too. We don’t have to agree. But we can be kind. And when we fail and hurt another person, we can apologize.
Just like Meg. She really does get what it means to “fail.” And she faced it, owned it, made it right as best she could. It’s not easy to do what she did. That’s why, this week, she’s totally my hero. I want to learn to be just like her.
