The carnival-style hanging bar game at Legoland has been taunting my 7 year old for months. Perhaps you’ve seen a game like it before- a metal bar suspended in the air. You can win a five foot hot pink gorilla for holding onto that bar for a mere two minutes solid without dropping. It is so tempting, seeing all of those flourescent great apes floating around this singular bar. It seems simple. Yet I knew it was not. I knew the bar was on ball-bearings, designed to spin slowly out of your grasp, so the odds of a seven year old boy being able to cling on were desperately NOT in his favor. And that is why I’ve told him no, countless times, every time he asks.
But today, I decided he should try. He was SO excited to, and hey, maybe I was wrong and he could hold on somehow. And, if not, then at least he would finally understand what I had been trying to explain to him– it was nearly impossible. Firsthand experience is always the best, right? So, armed with a five dollar bill and the biggest smile you can imagine, my little boy ran up to the attendant and started jumping up and down.
He slowly climbed the stepladder and adjusted his grip. He looked at me and grinned. I dutifully pulled out my cell phone to video the attempt. The man pulled the step ladder away and my boy held on. He tried so hard. He held and he struggled and he winced….for a solid 3 seconds. And then his fingers couldn’t grasp the slippery, rolling metal rod anymore, and he fell to the ground in a heap. He jumped up and searched for my face in the now-growing crowd. (Who doesn’t love to watch humans attempt the impossible, after all?) I cheered for him, my kids clapped for him, and my dad patted him on the back. The grin remained intact, and we headed over to the popcorn stand to reward the effort.
Standing at the popcorn cart, fumbling for my wallet, I glanced behind me and I saw it. It’s possible nobody else would have even noticed- but the devastation written across his face was plain as day to me. His lip barely quivered, his cheeks were almost shaking, and his eyes were filled with disappointment. I quickly called him over to me as I continued trying to manage the popcorn transaction. My son came to me and melted into my side immediately. I put my arm around him and as the cashier told me to swipe my card, I leaned down to his height.
“What’s going on?” I asked, and the floodgates opened.
He cried silently.
“I hurt my hands for nothing,” he quietly sobbed into my arm.
Oh…..my heart. My heart.
“Let me see your hands,” I murmured, and he turned them over so I could see how red and raw they were, tiny dots of petechiae scattered across his palms. “Oooh, baby,” I breathed, as I gently rubbed my fingers across his red hands. I kissed them gently.
I took a deep breath. I really didn’t know what to say.
“I know it hurts. But it wasn’t for nothing. Think of the excitement you had to try! You’ve been looking forward to that for months! That was worth something. And you tried something new! How amazing are you! That game was designed to make kids fall. It truly never gave you a chance. But you took one anyway. I am so proud of you,” I quietly whispered into his ear as I brushed the tears from his cheeks. He nodded, and I continued my quiet murmurings until his tears finally stopped. I’m not even sure what else I said, but that was the main bulk of my message. Finally, once I was convinced that the devastation had passed, I kissed him on top of the head and stood up again, smiling apologetically at the popcorn man, who handed me the bucket.
And then the popcorn man smiled at me, and looked me in the eye, and he said, “You are an amazing mother.”
I said, “Thank you,” and quickly moved out of line to allow the next person, but in the next moments, his words rang over and over in my head. “You are an amazing mother.” How good it was to hear that! How needed! In a moment where I was completely making it up as I went along, for a total stranger to make such a kind gesture, to say such reassuring, unprovoked words…he filled my heart with so much strength and love and power….and I’m sure he’ll never know. I wish, in the chaos of the afternoon at the amusement park, I had taken the time to go back and thank him, truly thank him, for his kind words, because they raised me up. And isn’t that what we should all do? As caregivers, as adults, as residents of this planet, as HUMAN BEINGS, if we could just spend more time raising one another up, think of how much more positive energy there would be in this world. The Legoland Popcorn Man made my day, and I won’t forget his words for a very long time. And I will try to pay his kindness forward, recognizing other people, voicing their successes out loud. Because I want to raise other people up, too!
Oh, and in case you were wondering, my son immediately rebounded. Popcorn in hand, his family at his side, walking through the amusment park, he had a pretty good day. But that’s not to say I didn’t scour the park for a “Play ’til you win” game before we left 😉 After all, he needs to be raised up as well. 🙂
travelingmamabear 