I used to help out at a lady’s house, tending to her kids and helping her keep house. It was a good job, and she treated me well.
But I observed some stuff.
Spanking kids just for punishment isn’t good. The kids got spanked a lot. But they never learned anything from it.
The eldest girl was pretty sweet, but jealous of the littlest, and was a bit of a bully.
The littlest was a fairy child. She sort of wilted under getting spanked. To the other two siblings, it was a game.
My mom says I only got spanked once. I thought it was a few more times than that, but I also believe her. I’m a natural people-pleaser, and I have a very tender conscience that God keeps in line with Him. Between those two things, I didn’t get into much mischief as a kid. I wanted to do the right thing, and I was honest to a fault.
I didn’t like how this mom dealt with her kids. She’d get down the wooden spoon, and go to work. And the kids learned absolutely nothing from any of it.
I don’t think that’s what God meant when he wrote about training up kids in the way they should go.
She was a good mom, mostly. The kids had clothes on their backs, and a good place to live, and plenty of food to eat. They had all their main needs provided for. But the rest? I just didn’t think it was what it could have been.
It was a good job though. That was one of the half-a-million-odd-jobs I had around age nineteen. Sometimes I miss having jobs like that.
I think after this year, I’m going to be done being a paraeducator. It’s very hard on my emotional health, and I believe God will provide for me elsewhere. Besides, it might be fun to work in a gardening store or a craft store for a while. Who knows?