Community - From One Mother to Another 3-12-10

Anderson, South Carolina

As a kid, the most profound wondrous statement in my little insular world was “Free Inside.” When dragged by my troubled mother to The Pantry grocery store in the next block to get groceries, my brother and I immediately set a bearing for the cereal aisle. In the 1950s cereal was a good source of empty calories for those living within the gravitational boundaries of fiscal black holes. A great source of attraction for me in my tiny childhood was the possibility that I could get something really cool - for free.

Growing up in an alcoholic drug-ridden environment, one becomes an opportunist, grabbing at whatever one can to survive. My precarious psyche needed to occasionally find one of those magical little packages in the bottom of cereal boxes. Scanning the shelves, we looked for those two magic words, but they had to be on cereals that were semi-nutritious and reasonably priced, ones that a fear-driven alcoholic mother would allow us to pick out. Even in the 1950s some cereals were out of reach economically. Some days we were lucky. Those words of promise would show up on lower and middle class cereals. It must have been a very effective corporate strategy to habituate kids to cereal; occasionally putting toys and trinkets in the cheap boxes. To this day I would rather dine on a good bowl of cereal than steak any time.

Twenty years ago I was offered a grand job in another state, meaning I would be leaving a large universe of friends to move hundreds of miles east. Several creative individuals decided a farewell party was in order. Fine invitations were printed and sent out to about eighty people. Unusual was a request of the hostesses asking guests to bring a box of cereal as a token for admission. For a non-recovering non-repentant cerealholic, Nirvana manifested in my life experience. When the party was over, I was proud possessor of a mountain of some eighty boxes of cereal, including highly prized posh kid-vid cereals like Count Chocula, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Fruit Loops, things I never saw in my alcoholic childhood.

A violist attending the party was creative and made a mixture of high end cereals, putting the whole of it in an empty Electrolux dishwasher soap bucket. Having wrapped the outside of the two-gallon bucket with masking tape, she wrote on the outside in black marker, “For a regular guy.” Amazingly, twenty years later, that bucket is still in my kitchen filled with an admixture of raw oats, nuts, wheat bran, raisins, and even some kid-vid for sweetness. Sugar can be a bit hard to give up. Alcoholic people know all about this. Eating cereal from that bucket most mornings reminds me of the sense of community I enjoyed in another state for many years. Melanie is still part of my world.

Yesterday was one of those lucky days, one of those magic ones when we experience God doing something really special, giving us a gift one cannot possibly buy, a “Free Inside.” One of the greatest highs for me comes from knowing God is working in my midst. In recovery we so often speak of seeking through prayer and meditation conscious contact with God as we understand him. We speak of “deep and effective spiritual experiences which have revolutionized our whole attitude toward life, toward our fellows and towards God’s universe. The central fact of our lives today is the absolute certainty that our Creator has entered into our hearts and lives in a way which is indeed miraculous. He has commenced to accomplish those things for us which we could never do by ourselves.” In the afternoon this grand promise of recovery manifested for me.

Circumstances were such that I had been asked to deliver a gift of great value. A dear friend of mine, Jane, a happily married mother with a special needs child of her own came to learn of a disabled single mother’s great challenge to raise several special needs children. I was asked to deliver this gift with the statement, “This is a reaffirmation to you that God loves you and your struggle, from one mother to another.” Being granted the privilege of acting as courier between two mothers who have never met was exactly that, exalted privilege. Contacting a retired minister, I was able to locate Danielle and her children and arrange a meeting.

So it was I found myself sitting on a couch in an ancient house in the part of town safety conscious people stay out of. In this small home I experienced a level of hospitality that was simply stunning, radiant, open, and unconditional. Silliness prevailed. We touched each others pain, gently. We hugged. I crawled in dog piles with these three kids, laughing in ways unknown to my own childhood. I thought of a magnet on my refrigerator stating, “It’s never too late to have a childhood.” Perhaps so.

At one point one of the twin boys, fifteen years old with the intellectual level of about four years, unprompted, went off into another room. He returned carrying a porcelain-coated steel bowl containing the freshest crispest Count Chocula swimming in what seemed like a quart of the coldest freshest milk in the world. How could Zachary possibly know that manifesting hospitality in this way would reach down into the deepest regions of my troubled childhood? I have often heard that very small children have an ability to hear God in ways quite lost in adulthood. Does Zachary retain some kind of innate knowledge of God?

My most astounding experience with this family was seeing the profound sense of safety this mother gives to her children. This mother and her normal daughter have seen and experienced the very worst this world has to dish out. Yet, somehow they have been gifted with an ability to provide structure, predictability, and love to severely challenged boys so that they know the true nature of the universe, that it really is friendly after all. The care-free laughter and frivolity of these boys suggests they haven’t a care in the world. Seeing them safely to sleep in their beds confirms this is so.

I pray my happily married friend has been able to teach another mother that the world is really friendly for Danielle also. It certainly is for me. For me it was a “Free Inside” day.

At that time Jesus answered and said, I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes.