"Jess and Alex, your dad and I promise to strive for:
· the patience to listen to you, especially at the most frustrating times;
· the love to understand and empathize from your perspectives;
· the strength to speak the truth to you, to stand up for what we believe is right and to admit when we are wrong, and to set good examples for you, to live our lives as we ask you to live yours;
· and the wisdom to respond to you in ways that will help you to be aware, secure, honest, responsible, compassionate, and loving people¾people with self respect, respect for other people, and for the earth.
So let's dance together, let's sing together, let's laugh and cry together, work and play together!
Your dad and I hope to continue to help you discover, develop, and delight in the wonderful spirit that shines within you, Jessica Westwater-Jong and you, Alexander Robert Westwater-Jong."

I wrote these words for the Dedication Ceremony for my two children. It was easier to write than it has been to live, of course.
....the patience to listen to you, especially at the most frustrating times
Occasionally, I'm a little short-tempered. Recently I called out to my son, "Will you wash your hands and go practice the piano?" There was an edge to my voice, a sharp edge. I was racing to get chicken in the oven before taking my son to his piano lesson and I couldn't find my apron and I'd just scattered flour all over my sweater. My son was slowly eating a million pomegranate seeds, one by one. There really was no other way to eat it.
I was taking my anger out on him. If a friend my age had been sitting there, I might have cursed my situa-tion, but I wouldn't have used that tone of voice. I never use an impatient tone with my friends. My friends don't dawdle either. But children do. I sighed and noted my behavior. I apologized for my tone of voice and asked him again in a tone I would like him to use with me.
Listening¾perhaps the most important key to knowing my spirit and those of my children. First, listening to my children with my ears and eyes and heart. Only by having enough quiet time to really attend to nothing but my own thoughts and those of my loved ones, do I remember to really listen.
Second, listening to my own spirit through meditation helps me hear what my children and I think and feel. Seven years ago, my husband was diagnosed with cancer. During our all-consuming struggle to heal him, I ruptured a disk in my back and started swimming laps to recover. I meditated as I swam. I focused on my breathing always, but I devoted different decades of laps to different subjects. Many lengths were devoted to my final attempts to heal my husband. By the time I got to twenty lengths, I spent ten thinking about what life might be like for my son. How well do I know him, his special talents and delights, his troubles and blind spots or areas that might need help to develop? How happy does he seem? What are his relationships like? What is our relationship like? I would then spend the next ten lengths or so thinking about life from my daughter's perspective. One night I jumped out of the pool mid-swim to call her from the pool payphone to apologize for not listening to something she requested on my way out the door. In the first years of swimming after my husband's death, I would sometimes gasp for breath as I cried my way through the wa-ter. A couple of times I even stopped briefly at the end of the pool to finish crying enough so I could breath enough to swim some more.
Swimming meditation helped me heal my back and my soul. But it was so time consuming, I replaced it with walking meditation through conservation land near my home. For me, meditation is the opposite of daydreaming. If daydreaming is a kind of sleep, meditating is being truly the most awake and conscious I can be. I do three kinds of "meditation." The first is like taking my spiritual temperature and helps me be more disciplined in my thinking and being. I give space for my subsconscious to churn and pop up into con-sciousness whatever is on my mind. As soon as I realize I'm thinking about something, I note it and then let it go. Knowing my problems or joys at that time allows me to let them go, and eventually or periodically, I am at peace.
The second kind of meditation is a focused meditation, time set aside for problem solving, such as relfect-ing on each child. I consider this a kind of working meditation. I walk my way through my best thinking and sometimes into and through my most painful and angry feelings. My third meditaion is pure pleasure. It's where I get my energy. I empty my mind of thoughts, as best I can, and pay attention to nature's beauty and energy. I feel grateful, and silently give thanks to the source I can tap to feed me and get me through the day.
...the love to understand and empathize from your perspectives
Whether my children volunteer a reaction to what I say, or I have to wonder and ask them for one, or I need to meditate to put myself in their shoes, I must pay attention to what they say and how them seem. If they are feeling pain or anger, for whatever reason, I want to comfort them and try to empathize from their per-spective. That doesn't mean I need to agree with them. I need to understand them, and they need to know and feel that they are cared about and understood. Sometimes I can be generous and give them what they want, sometimes I agree with their perspective. But sometimes what they need is for me to gently and firmly not give them what they are requesting. This could be for their own safety and well being, or a lack of re-sources, or because someone else's needs must come first at that time. I believe that I need to help my chil-dren develop values of self respect and respect ofr others, learning that happiness does not come from get-ting everything they think they want, but in learning to accept and appreciate what they have.
...the strength to speak the truth to you, to stand up for what we believe is right and to admit when we are wrong
Sometimes I will decide with hindsight that something I did or said was wrong. My parents didn't feel thay had that option. When I was a kid, my dad told me that when he was a boy his parents were always right, he was never allowed to disagree with them. To disagree, no matter how politely, was disrespectful. I can re-member as politely as possible making my case for a reveiw of a decision my father had made. He said to me that even if I had a point, he would not go back on his decision because I would not respect him. I re-member thinking he was wrong, I would respect him more for admitting he was wrong and being able to change his mind. He agrees with me now. There's been a cultural shift in parent-child relationships. It's a relief to be free to be honest as a parent, but it puts most of us in the challenging position of parent pioneer-ing. I must balance being open and flexible with being consistent. If I truly listen to my children and am clear about my values, that should help me base my reactions to my children in a way consistent with those values.
...to set good examples for you, to live our lives as we ask you to live yours
It can be so hard to know the right thing to do. My parents were stricter than I think was helpful, but I see so many parents giving their children "freedom to be themselves," meaning the freedom to run around without being aware of other people, without learning to be respectful. Sometimes these children yell at or even hit their siblings or their parents without an immediate firm reaction. I don't know any parent who hasn't re-sorted to yelling on occasion, but I do think using anger to control childrens' behavior is unnecssary and spiritually unhealthy.
I use "time-outs" tailored to what I think will best teach each child according to her age, emotional state, the offense, and the lesson that needs to be taught. I started when my children were toddlers. I gently and firmly sat them down in a chair and held them there and counted to three, before they could even count themselves. Then I said in a sentence what they should or should not do in the future and an alternative way to ask for what they wanted or for expressing anger. "You don't hurt someone. You don't hit someone. Ask nicely if you want something." As they got older I would send them to their rooms, usually for ten seconds. They can come out after talking with me, as briefly as possible, about their mistake, what to do next time, and offer-ing an apology, if appropriate.
We certainly teach more by example than any other way. I value not hurting people, even if I feel they have hurt me. If I discipline my children by hurting them, my message is it's okay to control others by hurting them. I believe all our spirits are connected, when someone hurts me we both suffer. There is no need to compound this hurt with more hurt. It helps no one. I also believe it is unhealthy to allow a hurtful situation to continue. If someone is hurting me or someone else, it is my responsibility to see if I can do something to stop it. I feel I set limits best when I remember it seems to be normal child behavior to occasionally hurt others and property, and it is my job to teach them not to do this. There is no reason for me to yell or make them feel they are bad. They can feel the pain of hurting someone, take responsibility for it, ask for forgive-ness, be forgiven, and put it behind them, all in as few minutes as possible.
...to respond to you in ways that will help you to be secure, sensitive, compassionate and loving people
My children ask what to do on the playground or when one child is hurting them or another child. "Stop it, if you can," I say. Can they notice how sad they, and usually others, feel when someone is being hurt? They should try to stop it non-violently, without doing something wrong themselves. This is not easy. Is there a parent of an elementary school child who hasn't struggled with how to stop fights, whether their child is a victim, an offender, or a bystander? We don't want our children to be "bullies," "sissies," or "tattletales," or people who stand by and allow other people to get hurt. The tools we give them to respond to situations in childhood will be tested and refined into their adult behaviors.
To learn empathy kids must be aware of their own feelings. They must feel their own pain, sadness, and an-ger, as these will be teaching aids. We don't need to inflict pain on them, or encourage them to inflict pain on themselves; there will be plenty of pain in their lives. Pain, repressed or not healed, may motivate a child to lash out and hurt someone else. That repressed pain and retaliating hurtful behavior is spritually damag-ing to everyone involved. Instead, we can help them use their pain to learn compassion. We can say, "re-member how sad you felt when 'x' or how angry you felt when 'y'?" and they will have an emotional mem-ory to log back to as a frame of reference for that feeling¾they will understand how others feel. If we com-fort them through their disappointments, they learn how to comfort others. They can learn that it feels better to empathize and comfort someone than it does to hurt someone. And if the person isnt ready to be com-forted, well, kids have probably felt that also, and can learn to sense when someone just needs to be left alone.
...to be people with self respect, respect for other people and for earth
I believe I need to let my children know and graciously accept that they are each special children, precious individuals, with their own special strengths and gifts, just as every other person on earth is. They are more important in my heart than any other children. And each of them is as important as any other person on earth reagardless of intelligence, talent, physical beauty, age, sex, job, race, wealth, or country. But each of them is no more important than any other person, regardless of intelligence, talent, physical beauty, job, age, sex, race, wealth, or country. And if we happen to belong to a race, class, or country that has more power or dominance than another, it is our responsibility to respect, and pay special attention to those with less power, to share our power and listen to and assist those with less voice.
I cherish my time outside enjoying nature's beauty. I feel my spiritual health is in part dependent upon the health of our planet. My kids have shared my lifestyle and also love the woods and mountains and oceans that are so important to me. I must admit, I bribed them occasionally when they were really young. Initially, I think they found coming inside for cocoa as much fun as sledding and building snowmen. But we started winter-time fun together in small doses and I didn't force them to stay ouside longer than they were com-fortable. They have grown to enjoy the earth's gifts in all seasons. I've taken the kids camping, they are proud of their fire building skills and have been awed by stars in a black sky reflected in a black lake. I share literature from environmental organizations to teach us all ways in which our earth is in peril. We work together to recycle and try to buy foods and household and garden products that aren't poisonous. We do not live an environmentally pure lifestyle, but we do enjoy the earth, inform ourselves of perils, and take responsiblity to contribute to the environ-mental health of the earth.
So, let's dance togher, let's sing together, let's laugh and cry together, work and play together
This it the fun part. But that doesn't mean it's always easy. Our lives can get so fast that rushing from one commitment to the next takes so much time we don't leave enough time for having fun. It doesn't have to cost any money, just time.
I think each child needs a way to express him or herself, the inner self, artistically. In my family we all en-joy music. I remember my mother playing Wagner's Die Walkure on the record player for my siblings and me while we all galloped around the house like horses. How many women remember their dads teaching them to dance while standing on their dad's feet? I've taught my kids to waltz while my son sits on my daughter's shoulders so the three of us can dance together. Before a recent piano recital my son was trying to prepare his favorite song by playing it as fast as he could. I said it didn't matter how fast he played, I loved hearing it most when he played it from his heart, when he played it as though he loved every note. He now plays it with a passion that expresses his spirit¾when he's angry he pounds it and when he's happy, the notes ring with joy.
One of the questions I ask myself when I walk is have we laughed, danced, sung, volunteered to the com-munity together recently? We walk in the woods together. We gather trash and recycle together. We work in the garden together, sometimes we treat ourselves to ice-cream or a bike ride or a story after our work. I have told my children I believe each day we're alive is a gift. In exhange for this gift we need to give back a little something each day. They agree.
Your dad and I hope to continue to help you discover, develop, and delight in the wonderful spirit that shines within you
My father is very ill, possibly dying. My children and I talk about this together. I started to cry in the car the other day and told my son I was sad because my dad might die soon. I asked him if he was sad, too. He looked like he might cry and nodded. I put my hand on his arm and nodded back. We have cried together through his dad's death. I can't expect them to feel sad at the same times and in the same ways I do. I'm a private person, but I feel it's important I express my sadness and invite them to express theirs. So I'm as honest and open as I can be about my feelings, all of them, and ask them about theirs. I'm learning as we go through these times how each child likes to express his or her grief.
I share with them my beliefs about death and ask them what they think. I tell them that I believe God is a spirit, an energy, perhaps love, that is the essence of my soul. When Jess was five she announced "When you die, you die and that is it." Now that she's ten, she says she's not so sure. I ask, share, listen, discuss what feels true to them and me, and I have found their spirits to be as wise as mine. This is my job as a par-ent, to help discover, develop, and delight in these wonderful spirits that shine within my children.
Each night, right after I turn off my daughter's light, she likes a back rub with heavy pressure. I marvel at this ten-year-old, so old and young, depending on the minute. Sometimes, as I rub my son's back I ask him how his day was, did anything make him happy or sad that day? He's not much of a talker on his own, so usually he likes me to ask him a question. Last night he said he wished he could turn back time so he could start his back rub over and over and it would never end. Sometimes I am tired myself, or in a hurry to get to a meeting, or thinking about getting to folding the laundry or washing the dishes or¾stop! The spiritual value for me and for my child is being all the way with him at that moment, noticing what his back is like at age eight, that his head is shaped like his dad's, that he's sad about ripping his favorite pants that day, which if I am fully listening with my heart and hands, is so endearing it allows my love for him to rise and some-times move me to tears. What can be more exquisite than one's child ending his day and opening to sleep, laughing about something silly or struggling with the injustice of a boy who cheats in a game during recess? This is truly listening¾and when I tune in this way, my heart opens to these little people entrusted to my care and our spirits meet in love.

Pat Westwater-Jong is a member of First Congregational Unitarian Church of Harvard, Massachusetts.

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