What We Should All Be Taught As Children — And What We Should Teach Our Children Today

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Do your best in whatever you attempt, and in every attempt, you will succeed.

Always hold forgiveness and love in your heart, and your needs — whatever they may be, will never go unfulfilled.

Be a beacon of light to everyone who chooses or refuses to see you. In doing so, your carefree spirit will glow, you will become a magnet of peace, and the world — and everyone in it — will become your graceful and protective shelter.

Know that you are loved — and that you are a beautiful child — in a world filled with other beautiful children. More than anything, realize that you are no less or more perfect than any other child — and that we are all equal in the eyes of love.

Those are the kinds of words and thoughts I heard from my parents while I was growing up.

I was raised in the 1960s and 1970s in a modest, humble home made of solid red brick and stone on Erie Street in Rochester, New York. The house was situated in the shadow of the global offices of the Eastman Kodak Company, just one block away from where now stands Frontier Field.

We went to church every Sunday morning…and enjoyed pasta every Sunday at Noon, and every Tuesday and Thursday at 4:30. Mondays and Wednesday it was either Chicken, my Mom’s awesome Chicken or Lentil Soup…and then we went out to dinner on Friday nights.

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On Saturday, we always had a family party when, at different times over the years, and on television we watched Lawrence Welk, Jackie Gleason, Mary Tyler Moore, Bob Newhart, and Carol Burnett.

Every weekday morning, my Mom’s sisters would come over for morning coffee, and almost every night, many of which also included my Uncle Carl’s famous banana coffee-cake.

Come Spring, we would host and attend numerous family picnics. We summered in Waterport and Honeoye Lake and vacationed in Canandaigua, Miami, or Lake George.

At various times through the years, there were special family weddings and banquets, and there was a family birthday party at least once a week.

But we always came back home…and we always laughed and made sure to thank each other for everything…each night before we went to sleep.

That’s what it was like every day.

We had “structure” at my house. It was a good, sound “foundational structure,” physically and geographically. And we had “structure,” emotionally and psychologically.

That was my life, my house, which was always “Everyone’s House,” because everyone was always welcome.

It was a beautiful house.

It was a beautiful life…because my parents taught me that I was not the only little child in the world…and every other unselfish good thought they could instill me. So, that I, in turn, could somehow instill in others the same kind of thinking…by example.

If someday I am blessed to somehow have children of my own, whether, by biological means or adoption, I can only hope that I would be half as good a parent to those potential children as my beautiful parents were to me.

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DISCLAIMER

This article is intended for informational purposes only, and should not be considered psychological counsel. If you are seeking psychological advice, you should consult a medical professional, psychologist or registered therapist before making any significant decisions regarding mental health.

That said, if you have enjoyed this article, or found it useful, please recommend, share and follow me here on Medium, where I write a variety of new posts on a regular basis.

Please also feel free to visit my main website: www.HerbieJPilato.com.

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