I love old cars.
Especially the ’33-’38 era Fords. There’s really nothing quite like a fully restored roadster, shiny and new, basking in its owner’s love, purring beneath the soft dust wand that caresses its voluptuous fenders and custom grill.
That being said, I get just as excited when I see a classic car covered in rust, glass busted out, weeds growing up through the hood, tires amiss. There’s never been a time when I’ve stumbled upon this sight and felt anger, resentment, or personally attacked.
I see the car’s potential. I see it for what it was the day it rolled off the assembly line, shiny, young and fresh. And I see it for what it is Now…a beautiful piece of history shaped by all the people and circumstances it has encountered in life. A car in need of Love. Lots of love.
I can see this in a car, and yet, it has taken me years to see the same thing in my children.
My children only reflect what has been presented to them. Being hurt, angry or malicious will not change anything. The only catalyst for change is Love.
Lots and lots of Love.