When Zep brought home the invitation, he was really excited and I asked him if he wanted to go. ...to a birthday party...with games...and cake...and a goody bag.
I mean, really, does Santa look great in red? Who ever says no to a party?
We contacted the boy's mother and said yes because we wanted to celebrate her son's birthday and have a good time and off we went in search of a gift. (To this I will add, I have a $10 clause in my gift-giving. It isn't set in stone, but it is a great equalizer. -We spent $14 for this particular birthday.- In regards with families we do not know personally, $10 seems very fair to me.)
It was drizzling on the evening of the party when Zep and I arrived. We kept the gift dry and found our way inside the building to where the party was held. Before long, Zeplin was off with the birthday boy and a few other friends, running around and having a great time.
It was a small party, not many people were able to make it for whatever reasons, and only two classmates were there, including my son.
This doesn't seem too terrible, until you know that, as per school policy, if you are inviting someone in the class, you must invite everyone in the class. And I adore the school my sons attend, but REALLY? Although I agree with most everything the school lays as law, I think this is a little on the crazy side- There are 24 students in this class!
On our way through the parking lot, before we ever arrived at our car, Zep asked me why only he and one other classmate were there.
"Where was everyone else, mom?" He asked.
And there was no way I could know.
Maybe they stayed in because of the rain? (*drizzle)
Maybe they already had plans?
The party was held too late and on a Sunday?
Maybe someone forgot?
It was a half hour ride back home and Zeplin fell asleep in the backseat, leaving me alone with my thoughts. In particular, the story of Serenity.
A woman I appreciate and aspire to be like once told my family about how her daughter, Serenity, was invited to a classmates party many years before Zeplin was invited to this party.
Serenity did not really want to attend, she wasn't really friends with the birthday girl but was likely invited for a reason similar to my own sons school and the "invite the masses" theology they were preaching.
The evening of the party, Serenity did go, like it or not, and her mother *bless* found out later that Serenity was the ONLY classmate to attend.
The ONLY ONE.
Of course, this became a better-received gospel over the school-wide invite policy:
always chose to celebrate people.
Had Serenity stayed home...
The girl would have had exactly zero friends at her party.
Zero friends to celebrate her.
Zero chances of feeling important on her very important day.
And as I remembered this story, I was thrilled beyond belief that we were able to attend this classmate's party. Thrilled that we could be used to help fight the lie that someone is unworthy of celebration.
 |
| https://tenor.com/view/confetti-celebrate-lets-gif-12059190 |
And is it not obvious that there is so much we can all learn from these two parties?
I hope that we always choose to celebrate others: whether we are invited to one party or one every weekend. (Again, the $10 equalizer makes SO MUCH sense.)
And that we remember how important the best friend and the brand new friend each are. (And even the I-invited-you-because-I-had-to, friend.)
No comments:
Post a Comment