Teaching your children to survive is very important

Several years ago, I was relaxing at home, minding my own business. My eldest daughter, Natalie, was out doing something and I was simply soaking in the fact that I had no pressing items on the agenda. As I sat, peering out the window, I watched as a vehicle pulled into the driveway, parking directly behind my vehicle. As my curiosity grew, I observed, a child, known to me as one of Natalie’s friends, exit the driver’s side of the vehicle and remain near the front. I noticed the young lady had a look of confusions mixed with a moderate amount of fear gleaming from her face. Being alone at home, the situation required the easing of my curiosity thus I decided to go outside and see what was troubling the child.

As I exited the front door the young lady turned and looked towards me. Describing to her that Natalie was not home she simply looked at me, acknowledging my comment yet still appearing confused. As the two of us remained in the driveway, hem hawing around, I was no closer to understanding why the child was in my driveway and what she needed. At this point it was apparent that I would need to transition into a different level of communication, plain talk, so I simply blurted out “what do you need sis”.

The young lady quickly turned to me; the look of confusion on her face turning into a look of embarrassment, as she appeared to be carefully choosing the next words which came forth from her mouth. I helped her along and said, its ok, do you need help? At that, the child described that she was almost out of fuel. Relieved that the child wasn’t about to disclose something more damaging such as our pending destruction, or imminent danger I simply responded ok. Like clockwork we transitioned back into to the silent oddity of no words. Uncomfortable with the fact that I had not been able to ascertain exactly why this child stood in my driveway I asked her if she had the money to get some fuel and she replied that she did. Explaining that her father had provided her with his debit card for fuel, paying for the resource was not a problem.

As we continued the process of my attempting to resolve this issue, which was taking away from my relaxing, carefree day, the child turned to me and with what appeared to be a broken spirit, explaining that although she had all the necessary provisions for fueling her car, she did not know how to do so. Taken aback, I stood there for a moment and thought about my next move. Without hesitation, the child and I embarked upon a 15-minute lesson on using a debit card at a gas pump, opening the fuel door, and fueling her vehicle safely. As the child listened intently, I became vested in her success and hoped our lesson took hold and the child was wiser than when she awoke.

I could see that a load of fear had been lifted from the child’s shoulders as she pulled out of the driveway. As she left, I felt a sense of pride in the fact that I was able to be the means by which a neighbor could excel. My mind rapidly flowed to that of my own concern as to whether I had adequately prepared my child, a junior in high school, just like her friend. As parents we often go about our days determined to ensure that our children are prepared for their future. We lecture about principles, teach higher learning, centering upon history, reading and math, all the while forgetting, many times, to prepare them for the basic life skills they will require. How often we overlook the little things, the basics, the tire changes, jumping batteries and fueling a vehicle. In a life where toasting bread, balancing our bank account, understanding bank interest, or even cooking a turkey has taken a back seat to standardized testing and the computerization of society we must lay the foundation of survival for our children. For without a firm understanding of the basics our children are destined for potential failure in this thing we call life. Friends, take time this week to teach a life skill to our little ones. Trust me, teaching your child how to check her oil will save you in the end.

Richard J. Stephens lives in Carter County and is the father of three little ladies ranging in age from eight to 29.