Helping your child answer his own big questions

I am reprinting an article I wrote in September 1991. Questions asked during those times are similar questions being asked by our preschool children now.

My husband, Max and I fondly remember Evan and his brother, Eric. They were still babies when Ambassador Delfin and his wife, Fanny, kindly let us stay at their residence. We were waiting then for the house that had been reserved for us by Vietnam Presse, who hired Max as a consultant. Evan was four years old when I took him to Manila Zoo, 41 years ago during one of the regular home leaves of his father, while he was an ambassador based in Den Hague, Holland.

A huge crocodile, mouth ajar, lay immersed in the water staring at us. "Why is he in the water?" Evan asked me. "Reptiles like water," I replied. There followed a succession of questions: "Why does his skin get dry?" he asked. I answered, "Their scaly skin gets dry easily." "Why does his skin get dry?" he repeated. This time, being an experienced kindergarten teacher, I turned the question to him. "What do you think?" I asked. Evan, surprised at my reaction, ceased his questions. Throwing back the questions to the child encouraged him to reflect by himself.

(Evan became the former Deputy Chief of Mission at the Philippine Embassy in Washington and is now the Special Assistant at the Office of DFA Secretary. He is married to Foreign Affairs Assistant Secretary for Personnel Services Jocelyn Garcia. His brother, Eric is now a businessman based in America.)

Sometimes it seems that God is not there

Children ask all sorts of questions. Some are attention-getting, others brain twisting.

"Does God really exist? Carlo’s papa says if God were real, he would by now have stopped Mt. Pinatubo from destroying more villages," seven-year old Toby told his mother.

His mother sat down and replied sympathetically, "We have known Carlo and his parents for a year now. They come from Bacolor, which is filled with mud and lahar flow. Well, sometimes it doesn’t seem as if God is there, especially when we feel helpless. It feels as if God must be awfully far away."

After a while, Toby asked, "Well, what should we think?" His mama kissed the top of his head. "When I look at so many people everywhere trying to help the volcano victims, our neighbors and friends personally visiting the evacuation centers in Metro Manila and Pampanga, I just know He is there even though I feel rotten," she said.

Toby hugged her and heaved a sigh of relief. His mother suddenly realized that Toby was not looking for proof of God’s existence. He was just trying to make sense of his insecure country. He needed a loving adult to help him.

Stop worrying about having the ‘right’ answers

We must stop worrying about having the "right" answers and instead, see ourselves as our children’s COMPANION who are exploring and discovering together with them.

FIRST, WE NEED TO LISTEN, as the child’s understanding unfolds.

Seeing ragged nine-year old boys selling bags of chicharon (crispy pork rind), outside their house gate, five-year old Joanna asked her mother, "Why do they go out in their bare feet and with unwashed shirts?" "They are very poor children who have to help their parents earn more money. That’s why we must try to collect some old clothes and sandals from your older brother to give them. Inday, our labandera, lives in the same district where those boys come from," Joanna’s mother replied while making a mental note to let Inday take them to her barangay one of these days. Then, Joanna would have an idea of life beyond her middle-class circle.

When Anton was four years old, he occasionally watched the evening news report on TV with his parents. During the Gulf War crisis, he would cry and piteously ask, "Why do people have to kill each other, papa?" When a child asks about war footages on television, he is not expecting to hear casualty reports or discuss military strategies. He is really asking whether the world is a place to be trusted. He wants to know whether the "bad guys" are going to get him.

(Anton, now nearly 30 years old, just got married to Marita. He worked with Accenture Philippines and did his Masters in Virginia, USA. He now works at Ernst and Young accounting firm in Manhattan, New York, while his wife works with Avaya Telecommunication Company.)

When we humble ourselves, we become more appealing to our children

Six-year old Tina and her five-year old brother Donald were chatting with their mother who had just read to them the story of Francisco Balagtas, the Filipino hero and author of the epic poem, Florante at Laura. They thoroughly enjoyed the story, but Tina looked thoughtful. "Why did Francisco Balagtas die?" she asked.

"Well, he got sick. That happens to people when they get old," said her mother carefully. "We try to live a full life, and then we die."

Tina turned towards her mother and hugged her. "I don’t want you to die," she said. As her mother hugged Tina back, she realized that Tina was not asking for a full explanation of death. She had, like many six-year-olds, been facing the idea of dying. "Everybody in our house is young and strong. I don’t think we’re going to die for a long time. Right now, our job is to love each other and learn how to help the world," her mother answered. Tina and Donald sighed contentedly and fell asleep.

Such helpful responses, of course, do not always come easily. The response, "I don’t know" can be the beginning of a deep, honest and nurturing exchange of ideas. Strangely, it is often when we humble ourselves and seem empty-handed that we are more appealing to our children. The realization that parents, just like children, don’t know everything, binds them closer to one another.

As the child approaches adolescence, the questions change

As the child approaches adolescence, the questions change. Many of his earlier concepts may seem silly and childish. It is time to dig deeper and explore ideas about God and the meaning of life through reading, watching the news on TV and intense conversation. In this way, an 11-year-old learns about tragic deaths caused by war and natural disasters such as earthquakes and hurricanes. He may know firsthand how it feels to lose a school friend to a terminal illness or by the recklessness of a drunk driver. "How can God let these things happen?" he wonders. Just as the adolescent no longer believes his parents are perfect and all-knowing, he must also come to terms with the reality that even a loving God does not prevent human pain.

All children need to feel free to express bewilderment and anger over injustice and suffering in the world. When they do, we can convey authentic hope. This is not done by offering platitudes such as "Look on the bright side" or "It is God’s will", and certainly not by bringing up divine retribution ("God is punishing them").

Humanity has been given the strength and wisdom to survive

We do not need to pretend to understand why evil and pain exist. Instead, we can convey hope by our willingness to share our children’s concerns — to listen patiently without passing judgment. Over time, we can help recognize that somehow, humanity has been given the strength and wisdom to survive, to come to terms, and even to move forward.

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