Growing up, I remember getting my fanny swatted more than once... well into my early teens. I survived. But whether a spankin, lecture, grounding or privileges taken, the punishment was always preceded by a teaching that explained why my actions had been wrong and why the punishment is what it is. The come away was that I knew my parents cared. They were firm and offered little room for negotiation. They were clear in their expectations, consistent in their discipline and loving in their correction. Two of the qualities I most remember about my parents during those schoolings were their love and time... both given generously and unconditionally to my sister ( Teresa Coleman Brown) and I. Though I hated the sermons and swattings, after all was said and done, I felt a sense of redemption and cleansing, and knew I was loved. Always.
Posted on: Mon, 21 Apr 2014 21:00:31 +0000
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