A Life Lesson Learned from a Pencil

This week, the student council at my son’s elementary school held a pencil sale. Kids were encouraged to bring in money and purchase pencils to send to their friends. My son asked if he could have a dollar to purchase a pencil and send it to a classmate. These weren’t just any pencils. These pencils change color when exposed to heat and cold (same premise as those straws you get at Friendly’s).

The day of the sale, my son came to me after school and showed me the pencil he had received. On the slip that came with it was a message from the student council, wishing him luck on his upcoming MCAS test. His face crumpled as he sadly told me that none of his classmates had sent a pencil to him. His pencil was a kind of consolation prize (anyone not receiving a pencil from a friend got a pencil from the student council). My heart broke as he mentioned several kids in class who had received 10 or 12 pencils each. I recognized the names: the popular kids. (Amazing, there are “popular” eight-year olds) I hugged him, comforted him and told him I would buy him a hundred pencils if it made him feel better. As I dried his tears, I thought back to a similar incident in high school.

Every Valentine’s Day, our high school would sell carnations. You could purchase a carnation and send them to friends, girlfriends or boyfriends. White was for friendship, pink was for love and red was for something else that I can’t remember (Passion? Lust? I doubt the school would have emphasized those emotions to the under-18 crowd.) My friends and I were not usually recipients of the pink or red variety. Not wanting to be the only ones in the class to receive zero carnations, we schemed ahead of time to send each other as many white flowers as we could afford. Better to have a bouquet of white carnations than none at all. But still, as the flowers were distributed, we secretly hoped that one unexpected pink carnation might make it into the bunch. (I’ll end the suspense right here…it never happened).

Ah, the life lessons learned from pencils and carnations. Looking at my son, I knew that there would be more lessons like this throughout his life: Parties he might not be invited to; girls that may not want to go out with him; colleges that might waitlist him; jobs he may apply for and not get. None of it because of who he is (or isn’t) but simply because that’s just the way life is. As a parent, I’m torn between knowing these experiences will toughen him up for life’s challenges ahead, yet wanting to shield him from hurt or rejection whenever possible.

As my son settled down, I asked whether the friend he sent a pencil to received any other pencils. No, my son said, just the one pencil that he had sent. I told my son to think about how sad he felt, right at that moment. I said, “Your friend might be feeling sad just like you, if you hadn’t sent him that pencil. You made someone else feel happy instead of sad.” He nodded his head as he thought about that and a tiny hint of a smile appeared. Another lesson learned.

Because when it comes right down to it, the value of our lives is not measured by pencils or carnations. It’s measured by the person we know ourselves to be, and how we treat those around us.

At least, that’s what I’ve learned.