Her husband elaborated, “We don’t get them violent toys like guns or G.I. Joes.”
I expected that. For my visit I brought the boys a Where’s Waldo? book and a gyroscope. Fortunately, these gifts were in my car. For yes,there on the coffee table was the very same Where’s Waldo? book. Under the table? A huge gyroscope.
Remembering the nearby Toys R' Expensive store, I subtly asked, "what do the boys like?"
After a half hour of chatting about parenting, Blue's Clues, and violin lessons, I left the other adults and sought the boys in the backyard. The lads were busy.
“EH EH EH EH EH!” proclaimed one. With a tree branch, held machine gun style, he strafed his brother.
“Byow! Byow! Byow!” returned the younger one, firing his trusty index-finger side arm.
What could I say? I took ‘em out for ice cream.
Parents have high hopes for their kids. Teachers and pedantic Christians like me have high hopes for people generally. But sincerity is not enough. The best-laid lesson plans often prove unengaging. The strategy that has yielded the most lasting results for me goes something like this: Soak myself in God's principles. Go out back or wherever the people are. Watch, listen, and be taught! Start forward on common ground. Head toward higher ground.
"To the weak I became weak, that I might win the weak," said Paul in 1 Corinthians 9. "I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some."
Hey, who likes ice cream?