I don’t want the best for my children.
I want them to work hard and get little back.
I want them to blister in the heat and freeze in the cold.
I want them to sweat.
I want them to give up something they want for something they need.
I want them to work until not only do they not want to work, they physically can’t.
I want them to come home and collapse in their beds.
I want them to stay up late, putting in their very best effort, and come home without a ribbon.
I want them to give their all, and come up short.
I want them to jump for their dreams and crash, hard, into the concrete.
Why?
I want this not because I am cruel,
but because I want them to drink deeply of life and appreciate the sweetness.
When they work hard and get something back, it will be sweet.
When they get to work where they don’t freeze and blister, it will be sweet.
When they get to relax, it will be sweet.
When they get both something they want and something they need, it will be sweet.
When they come home, exhausted and weary, but having accomplished the day’s work, it will be sweet.
When they throw their heads on their pillows, it will be sweet.
When they stay up late, putting in their very best effort, and come home with a ribbon, it will be sweet.
When they give their all, and get something back, it will be sweet.
Because one day, they will jump and float, suspended momentarily, their fingers resting on the edge of their dreams, they will grab hold and bring their dreams close,
They will drink deeply of life, and appreciate the sweetness.