Two sets of tears

Yesterday, Madeline broke the yellow plate in her tea set.

It happened while she was jumping from a loveseat to a couch but she somehow missed entirely and knocked over her pink tea cart. All 24 pieces went flying in the air and crashed on the hardwood floor.

The sound was similar to a Pyrex baking dish exploding on the stovetop. She was rattled but not hurt.

I asked her to stand behind me while I picked everything up. When I saw the first broken piece with a yellow rim, I began to cry.

I don't really know why it bothered me so much. The set is made out of glass and I told myself there was no way the entire set could survive Madeline's childhood.

But inside in my head, I think I told myself we could do it. We could play nicely and gently. We could hide the set from little visitors. We could keep every piece intact and safe.

My tears upset Madeline. She almost began crying herself and couldn't stop apologizing and hugging me and rubbing my back.

I felt awful for making her feel so bad.

And then I remembered a post from Anderson Cooper that I read earlier that morning.

He visited an orphanage in Haiti where children had gone two days without clean water and very little food and the staff was out of IV's and IV fluid for the sickest children. I cried while reading the story but didn't let Madeline see my face. I didn't want to upset her.

And then I remembered that every single time Madeline was thirsty, I opened my fridge and gave her clean water.

And then I remembered that every time Madeline was hungry, I gave her food, amounting to three meals, two snacks and one slice of blue cake.

When I remembered these things, I didn't feel guilty or condemned for my life in America and the way my daughter's needs are cared for.

But I was guilty of hiding my tears over the desperate situation in Haiti and then showing tears over a broken plate.

I want her to know her mom cried and prayed over desperate children, women and men who are fighting to live in the midst of a terrible situation.

I want her to know a tragedy is when a child dies from not having clean water, not a broken plate.

I want her to know the things that matter in this life aren't things.

But in order to teach her those things, it starts with me believing them myself and acting on my beliefs with all my heart.