It’s funny how little things can make such an imprint on children that the impression continues for a lifetime. A few [or more] years ago, Bonnie Bruno, mother of one of my students, recommended a book to me called Children Are Wet Cement by Anne Ortlund. The idea behind the book has lingered as I have seen the truth played out by childhood memories in my own life and observation of others. We seem to be aware of the negative cement by the frequency with which we lay blame for bad adult behavior on poor childhood experiences. While those have validity, the opposite is also true. The impression in the cement seems equally likely to be a tragic event, a pleasant surprise, an unexpected disappointment, or a favorite song or story read at bedtime. Maybe it’s a family tradition or a lesson learned by experience. Significant impressions of childhood days seem to pop up at unexpected times.
Perhaps because of its meaning or because of what it meant to one of my sisters or maybe “just because” one of the memories in my cement is a poem Mama used to read to us by James Whitcomb Riley.
A Life Lesson
There! little girl; don't cry!
They have broken your doll, I know;
And your tea-set blue,
And your play-house, too,
Are things of the long ago;
But childish troubles will soon pass by. --
There! little girl; don't cry!
There! little girl; don't cry!
They have broken your slate, I know; 
And the glad, wild ways
Of your schoolgirl days
Are things of the long ago;
But life and love will soon come by. --
There! little girl; don't cry!
There! little girl; don't cry!
They have broken your heart I know;
And the rainbow gleams
Of your youthful dreams
Are things of the long ago;
But Heaven holds all for which you sigh. --
There! little girl; don't cry!
Mama never weighed us down with explanation. She read for the joy of reading and the beauty of the words, letting us draw our own meanings if we chose.
I wonder if she knew that my wet cement would go back to this idea over a lifetime. There is surely a time to cry, but also to remember that beyond sorrow comes joy; that both are part of life.