My children, in the future when you are old enough to understand the logic that motivate parents’ actions, I shall tell you that:

I have loved you enough to ask: where are you going, whom are you going with and what time are you coming back?

I have loved you enough to voice my concerns about that new pal who wasn’t a good companion.

I have loved you enough to make you go back to that convenience store and pay for the candy that you had taken without paying and apologize to the owner saying, “I’m sorry, I stole this yesterday and I’d like to pay for it.”

I have loved you enough to stand by your side for one whole hour while you tidied up your room (a task that would have taken me ten minutes to complete).

I have loved you enough to let you see not only the love I felt for you, but also the disappointment and the tears in my eyes.

I have loved you enough to let you take responsibility for your own actions, even when the consequences were so hard that made my heart fall apart.

Above all, I have loved you enough to say “NO”; even when I knew you’d hate me for doing so.

Those were hardest battles of all, but I am happy, I have won… because you’ve won.

And someday, when my grandchildren are old enough to understand the logic that motivates parents’ actions, my “children” will answer when asked if their parents were mean: “Yes, my parents were mean.

My parents were the meanest parents in the world. Other kids had candy for breakfast while we were forced to drink milk and eat cereals and bread.

Other kids could have hamburgers, fries and soft drinks for lunch while we had to eat rice, salad, meat, vegetables and fruit.”

My parents forced me to have dinner at the table with them, while every other kid we knew could eat in front of the television.

My parents demanded to know where we were at all times; it felt almost like a prison.

Mum had to know who our friends were and what we were going to do. She insisted on knowing when we would go out, even if it would take less then one hour.

I am ashamed to admit but I think they violated the “labor laws for kids”, because we had to wash dishes, make our own beds, do the laundry, learn how to cook, vacuum the floor, take the garbage out, and all that sort of cruel tasks. I think that they didn’t even sleep at night thinking on tasks for us to do.

My parents always insisted that we were to tell the truth, nothing but the truth (and we were not even in court).

And when we became teenagers, they could even read our minds. Life was quite boring. They wouldn’t let a friend blow the horn of his/her car in front of our house; my friends were supposed to come in and be properly introduced…, how embarrassing it was!

While our friends could go out at night at the age of fourteen, we had to wait until we were sixteen (at least) and be home by eleven o’clock. Our friends could drive their parents’ car long before they were old enough to have a license; we, on the other hand, had to wait and follow what the law stipulated.

Because of our mother (and father) we missed so many experiences in our youth. We were never involved in any act of vandalism; we were never rushed to hospital for drinking too much, we were not arrested for reckless driving and we never smoked anything.

It was all because of them.

Now we are honest, responsible and polite adults, trying very hard to become “mean parents” just like they were.

I’m sure this is one of the worlds’ worst problems: lack of mean parents (just like mine).

   Spiritist Moment Team, based on story by unknown author.
Translated by P.H.Medeiros