It’s becoming an almost daily occurrence now—the news of another young person, full of potential, choosing to end their life.
Not long ago, I sat across from a friend of mine, a respected psychiatrist, and asked him, “Why is this happening so often?”
“Bob,” he said, “when we were growing up, did our parents ever rush to school to rescue us when we had a problem?”
I shook my head. “No, we had to deal with it—whether it was the school bully, an unfair teacher, or a lost race. We came home, perhaps bruised and battered, but we handled it.”
“Exactly,” he said. “Today, at the slightest provocation, parents intervene. They confront teachers, challenge the system, and smooth every bump. And the outcome is devastating. Children are growing up without the ability to cope.
When life hits—and it will—they break.”
That conversation has stayed with me. In our effort to protect our children, we may be doing them harm. They need to learn resilience. They need to know what defeat feels like. They need to experience discomfort, to develop strength.
Behind me hangs a framed piece called A Father’s Prayer, written by General Douglas MacArthur for his son. My own father made it into a plaque and gave it to me. It is a prayer I wish every parent would hold close:
A Father’s Prayer
by Gen. Douglas MacArthur
Build me a son, O Lord, who will be strong enough to know when he is weak,
and brave enough to face himself when he is afraid;
one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat,
and humble and gentle in victory.
Build me a son whose wishes will not take the place of deeds;
a son who will know Thee—and that to know himself is the foundation stone of knowledge.
Lead him, I pray, not in the path of ease and comfort,
but under the stress and spur of difficulties and challenge.
Here let him learn to stand up in the storm;
here let him learn compassion for those who fail.
Build me a son whose heart will be clear, whose goal will be high;
a son who will master himself before he seeks to master other men;
one who will reach into the future, yet never forget the past.
And after all these things are his, add, I pray,
enough of a sense of humor, so that he may always be serious,
yet never take himself too seriously.
Give him humility, so that he may always remember
the simplicity of true greatness,
the open mind of true wisdom,
the meekness of true strength.
Then I, his father, will dare to whisper, "I have not lived in vain."
Yes, we must love our children deeply. But let them grow strong by facing life head-on…!
The Author conducts an online, eight session Writers and Speakers Course. If you’d like to join, do send a thumbs-up to WhatsApp number 9892572883 or send a message to bobsbanter@gmail.com
