What Then Is This Child Going To Be?: The Immersion

I hope everyone feels that their mother is pretty special but the realist in me knows the fallacy of that dream. This is about my mom, from Mothers' Day of 2009.

Since I have written so much about Mom in the light of her death six weeks ago, I had no plans to do any sort of Mothers' Day tribute to her. But, as I woke this morning, the first thing I found on my computer was this:

Coach,
Every now and then I will read up on your blog. I obviously have not read it in awhile as I just read about your mother's passing. It is seven minutes until "Mothers Day" and I wanted you to know that I am thinking of you and her. She was such a sweet lady and always made me feel welcome in her home.

The author of the e-mail was a young lady who played on one of my first high school basketball teams. With me as a connector, she ended up playing basketball at a college where my dad was a professor and she established a relationship with my parents. What she said about Mom was so true- Mom made everyone feel welcome. If you were in her home, she made you part of the family. I have mentioned in the past how many non-family members lived under our roof during and after my childhood. I was raised in a climate of love in the presence of Roger and Nelda Hawley. It was an unique upbringing.

We become what we are exposed to. I just walked in the door from a day with our Chinese church at Birch Creek State Park. I am sun burned and exhausted but what a beautiful place to worship God! I watched one of our young couples, Henry and Lynn, interact with their young children as we ate lunch. Henry and Lynn were born and raised in Asia but their son and two little girls are being brought up in America. In apearance, the kids are Chinese. In language, lack of accent, interests, and culture, they are Americans and consider themselves as such. Immersion does that to us. But immersion is the double-edged sword. Immersion in hatred produces criminals. Immersion in ridicule produces insecurity. Immersion in anger produces fear. But immersion in love and a welcoming heart can produce a family generation of children who can radiate what they have been exposed to since birth. So, as I consider my mother on the first Mother's Day since her passing, I realize I cannot adequately express my feelings so let me simply leave it at this: Thanks, Mom. (And Dad!)