Teaching Children to Notice the Harvest

 

Learning to see how much God has already provided

There is something about harvest season that makes you stop and notice.  You walk through the garden and suddenly realize how much has grown.  The tiny seeds you planted months ago have become something you can hold in your hands, a basket fills, the pantry gets a little fuller, the kitchen smells like something good cooking and for a moment, you realize just how much was happening while you were simply going about your days.

I think our lives can be like that too, we are so busy thinking about what we still need to do, what we don't have yet, or what we're waiting for that we forget to notice what is already here.  The answered prayers, the people sitting around our table.  The food in the pantry, the roof over our heads and the work that keeps our hands busy.  The animals in the pasture, the friends who check in and the sunset we almost missed because we were looking down.

The ordinary Tuesday that, if we stopped long enough to think about it, is actually filled with gifts.  Gratitude begins simply by noticing how much we've already been given, and I want my children to learn how to notice.

Teaching Children to Look for the Harvest

I don't want gratitude to become something we only talk about around Thanksgiving, I want it to become a way of life, a habit of the heart.  I want my children to look around and recognize that so much of what they have didn't simply appear.  There were people who worked for it, prayers behind it, sacrifices they may never fully understand.  There was God's provision woven through things both big and small.

When we sit down for dinner, I want them to understand that the meal is more than food on a plate.  Someone planted, harvested, worked, prepared and God provided.

When we walk outside and see the garden, I want them to notice the abundance, not just the vegetables that made it.  But the flowers, the bees, the birds, the rain and the sunshine.  The miracle of a seed becoming something completely different from what it was when we put it in the ground.

There is always more to notice when we slow down.

A Full Pantry

There is something comforting about a pantry with food in it.  It may not be fancy or overflowing.  But there is something deeply humbling about opening the door and realizing: We have enough.

In a world that constantly tells us what we need next, I want my children to learn the beauty of enough.  Enough food, enough clothes, enough toys, enough space.  Enough.

That doesn't mean we never work toward something better, it doesn't mean we don't dream or plan or improve our circumstances.  It simply means we don't want to spend our entire lives overlooking today's provision while waiting for tomorrow's.

There is a difference between wanting something and believing we need more in order to be happy.  I want my children to know the difference.

Food on the Table

Some of the greatest blessings in life are remarkably ordinary.  A meal, a glass of cold water, fresh bread, vegetables from the garden.  A pot simmering on the stove, family gathered around the table.  These things can become so familiar that we stop noticing them.

But perhaps familiar doesn't have to mean insignificant, perhaps familiar can become an invitation to give thanks.  I want our meals to be more than simply something we hurry through, I want them to be a place where we remember, talk, where we laugh, where we hear about each other's day and we look at what is in front of us and remember that it is a gift.

A Safe Home

There is another kind of harvest that isn't something we can put in a basket.  It is the feeling of home.  A place where you can exhale, where you know you belong, a place where you can be tired, messy, imperfect, and still loved.  A place where children know there is someone waiting for them.

I think that is one of the greatest things we can give our children.  And sometimes we don't realize what a blessing it is because we're too busy noticing everything our home isn't.  The unfinished project, the laundry, the dust, the room that needs painting or the things we'd like to change.

But maybe we need to step back sometimes and notice what our homes already hold.  Laughter, stories, family, books, meals, prayers, growing children, memories and love.  That's a pretty beautiful harvest.

Work to Do

Even work can be something to be grateful for, I know that sounds strange on the days when there is too much of it.  But there is dignity in having something meaningful to do.  A garden to tend, animals to care for, a home to maintain, children to teach, food to prepare, a project to finish, a skill to learn.

Work reminds us that we have something to contribute and I want my children to understand that work isn't simply something we endure until we can get to the fun part of life.  Sometimes the work is part of the good life.

There is satisfaction in doing something well, there is purpose in being needed, there is joy in looking at something and knowing, I helped make that happen.  The harvest isn't only the finished product, it is also the character built along the way.

The People Around Us

Sometimes the harvest looks like people.  Friends who have stayed, neighbors who show up, family who gathers.  Someone who brings dinner when you've had a hard week, who remembers your birthday, who prays for you.  Someone who sits on the porch and listens.  These relationships are gifts, I want my children to notice them.

Because people are easy to take for granted when we assume they'll always be there.  Gratitude teaches us to see them while they're here, to say thank you, send the message or make the visit.  To open our home and be the friend who shows up for someone else.

A grateful heart doesn't simply recognize what it has received, it learns to become generous with what it has been given.

The Animals, the Garden, the Beautiful Things

I think children are naturally good at noticing beautiful things.  A horse running across a pasture, a dog sleeping in the sunshine, a butterfly landing on a flower.  A particularly beautiful sunset, the moon rising, a cool breeze after a long, hot day.

We just have to be careful not to rush them past it.  There is so much beauty that costs us nothing and yet it can be some of the richest parts of our days.  Sometimes I'll look around and think about how easy it would be to miss all of it.  We can be thinking about tomorrow's list while standing in today's blessing.

So perhaps part of teaching gratitude is simply teaching children to stop, look, listen and notice.  Look at that sunset.  Listen to those birds.  Smell those flowers.  Look how much the garden has grown.  Look what God made.

Sometimes the simplest lessons are the ones children remember.

And Then There Are the Hard Seasons

I don't want to teach my children that gratitude means pretending everything is good all the time, because it isn't.  There are hard seasons, disappointments and there are prayers we pray that don't seem to be answered the way we hoped.  There are things we lose, seasons when the garden doesn't produce much at all.

But even then, God can be growing something we cannot yet see, sometimes the harvest of a hard season isn't something tangible.  Maybe it is patience, deeper faith, maybe it is compassion for someone else who is hurting.  Maybe it is learning to trust God when we don't understand what He is doing or discovering strength we didn't know we had.

Some of the most important things God grows in us are things we don't recognize until much later.  And perhaps that's another lesson I want my children to carry:  Not every harvest is visible right away.

Look What God Has Done

There is something powerful about looking backward.  Not because we want to live in the past, but because remembering helps us recognize God's faithfulness.  Look what we made it through, look how God provided.  Look at the people He placed in our lives, the prayers He answered, look at the ones He answered differently than we expected.  Look at how much has changed and how much has grown.

Sometimes we are so focused on what comes next that we forget to look back at where we've been.  And when we do, we may find that our hands are much fuller than we realized.

Teaching Them to Notice

Maybe this is one of the greatest gifts we can give our children, not simply teaching them to say thank you.  But teaching them why they have something to be thankful for.  Teaching them to notice.  Notice the food, the people, the home, the work.  Notice the animals, the beauty, the little provisions that arrive in ordinary ways.  Notice God's creation, His faithfulness.

And when life becomes difficult, teach them to notice that too.  Notice what they are learning, who is walking beside them.  Notice the ways they are growing and to notice that even a difficult season doesn't mean God has abandoned them.

Sometimes the harvest is right in front of us, we just haven't stopped long enough to see it.

A Harvest Worth Giving Thanks For

The garden will eventually be put to bed, the vegetables will be harvested, the flowers will fade, the seasons will change.  But the lessons can remain.

I hope my children grow up knowing that a rich life isn't necessarily a life filled with more, it can be a life filled with awareness.  Awareness of God's goodness, awareness of the people we love, awareness of the beauty around us.  Awareness of the work we've been given, awareness of how much we already have.  And perhaps most importantly, awareness that everything good is worth noticing.

So this season, I'm trying to slow down, look around and notice the harvest.  Not just what's growing in the garden, but what's growing in our home.  Faith, love, kindness, memories, friendships, character.  Children who are becoming who God created them to be.  And a life that, while certainly not perfect, is full of more blessings than I could ever count.

Gratitude begins simply by noticing how much we've already been given.  Maybe that's what harvest season is really teaching us.  Not simply to gather what has grown, but to stop long enough to recognize the hands that provided it.  And to whisper,  “Thank You, Lord, for all of this.” 

Until next time, may your coffee stay warm and your children stay little just a little longer.

-Maggie