Beyond the Golden Rule

My mom, Anne, with Elliot on his 7th birthday

I grew up close in heart to my mom. She stayed at home with us as we were growing up. I know she made a lot of sacrifices to give us those years. I have memories of her packing our lunches while listening to AM radio in our kitchen. If I close my eyes, I still see our geometric disco era wallpaper (yes, in the kitchen!), and hear the lyrics of Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain” filling the air. Carly would be interrupted by Bob Conners giving the traffic updates and the news, to which my mom would usually need to “shuuush” us so she could get a taste of existence outside the madness of getting 3 girls ready for school. I ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with the crusts cut off for lunch, every single day. She made indoor tents from blankets, pushed us for hours on swings, taught me how to sew, and was always willing to do our hair.

Now as a mom of 2 young kids I find myself even more appreciative of her efforts. This week I found myself repeating a lesson that she taught us over and over and over…probably because we didn’t listen, just as my own children have selective hearing now and again. “Treat people the way you want to be treated.” Most people refer to this as the Golden Rule. Even if you didn’t grow up in a Christian home, I’m sure that you were told this rule by a parent, teacher, or coach. According to Wikipedia the Golden Rule is defined in two parts. The first, “that a person should treat others as one would like others to treat oneself. And, secondly that one should not treat others in ways that one would not like to be treated.” This rule goes back to Biblical times and is seen in the Bible as the Parable of the Good Samaritan. This parable is told by Jesus in the Gospel of Luke (10:25-37). The story goes like this…a Jewish traveler is beaten, robbed, and left half dead along the road. First a priest and then a Levite come by, but neither offer help. Finally, a Samaritan comes along. Samaritans and Jews generally despised each other, but the Samaritan helps the injured Jew. They way I see it, the Samaritan did for this injured man what he would want someone to do for him. No wonder it’s called the Golden Rule. That line of thinking is as good as gold!

I am certain my mom spent many days feeling like I do, drained, worn out, sick of endless laundry, tired of cooking different meals to please different tastes…the list goes on. However, more often than not she treated me in a way that she hoped to be treated. Most of the time I was a decent daughter; though in my teen years I am sure I didn’t go out of my way to help her “do” much of anything. There was a time though that stands out in my mind when I got the chance to give back and go beyond the Golden Rule.

In 2003 my mom had a lumpectomy to remove a benign tumor. It was a serious surgery that put her in great after-pain. She knew she was going to need physical care in her healing after the surgery so she asked for help. Here was my mom, the one who had always taken care of me, but needed me to take care of her. I drove to Ohio from Virginia to help. There were some complications; an infection at the incision site even took us to the ER. The healing was slower and more complicated than we had anticipated.

After the first few days passed my grandma came to visit. My mom was feeling a bit better and gram had offered to bring lunch. In the grogginess of pain medication my mom agreed that would be a good idea. My little gram with her silver hair, and good intentions arrived with a lunch of Kentucky Fried Chicken. The smell of the lunch permeated the house. Gram prepared a plate for my mom. “You can have a lovely lunch in the comfort of your home” was something she more than likely said. My mom was sitting on the couch with a prepared plate of the KFC. I watched as she began to take on the composure of a cartoon character. It was as if I could see the color draining from her face. I knew immediately the food needed to go. As soon as I took the food away my mom looked relieved. She didn’t ask for me to take the food, I just did it.

Gram was convinced she needed the “nutrition.” I worked on convincing Gram that not everyone craves the gift of fried chicken. Not upset or hurt at all, Gram busied herself with household duties (you just have to know my Gram to fully grasp the moment). I left my mom to rest for a few minutes. Then, I made her some tomato soup (one of her favorites). I sat quietly in the living room with her as she ate the soup. Her eyes filled with tears and she said, “How did you know just what I needed? Grandma brought me what she would have wanted, but you brought me what I like.” The only answer I could come up with, and it’s how I still feel, is that when we know someone else’s heart—their likes and dislikes, we are able to not just follow the Golden Rule, but beyond the Golden Rule. Was my Gram not as tuned in to my mom for what she did? Not at all! It’s just the way I looked at the situation. My mom has taken care of me so many times and has not only done what she would want someone to do for her, but also what she knows I would do for myself if I could. I think of it as the Golden Rule, but with sprinkles on top.

The poor Jew left on the road surely hoped someone would help him. Luckily someone did. The Samaritan did what the man needed, helped him. But, imagine what he could have done had he really known him. Maybe the Samaritan took him home and fed him fried chicken, when what the poor guy really wanted was tomato soup. We’ll never know, but for myself I’m thankful for the Golden Rule and even more thankful for the opportunity to go beyond it.