Trust and Truth

My Conversation, The Uniques

I hope my brother reads this blog. We have great parents who taught us a lot about a lot of things, but there is one lesson that my mom drove home more than any other and it is about trust and the truth. My brother and I can both imitate her Trust lecture perfectly (it is one of the shorter ones in her repertoire). If we got caught in a lie, she would sit us down. Her voice would get very serious, disappointed. Here's what she'd say, "You have lied to me. I cannot stand to be lied to. You have violated my trust. I do not feel I can trust you right now. You are going to have to earn my trust back now."

My mom always ended up forgiving us, but those words had a way of making us feel the weight of our actions. Telling the truth is an important thing. The thing is, my mom—unlike most of us--always tells the truth as she sees it. She does not lie. You can trust her with anything. She doesn't even tell white lies. She does not tell little lies of convenience. I know many of you don't believe that this could be true, but if you know my mom you can believe it. Honesty is her policy.

I remember when I first learned that big people lie (especially to little people). I was in fourth grade and I was spending the night with a friend that had a little brother and a VCR. My brother was about the same age, but we didn't have a VCR so renting a movie was a big treat. We all went to the video store and on the way there this little boy said he wanted to rent "The Three Little Pigs", which his family had obviously suffered through many times. So, the mom and my friend and her sister all started telling this little four-year-old that I was scared of the big bad wolf and so we were going to get something else. At first my impulse was to correct them, but after I got few winks from the mom in the rear view mirror and a couple of nudges from the sisters on each side of me, I kept quiet. But I was upset. Why not just tell him to get something else or say no? I felt really uncomfortable telling this little lie. This was a new practice for me.

Well, I guess I got more comfortable with lies and I tell little ones to my kids all of the time. I talked to one of my church friends (who one might think would have some sort of moral reason to tell the truth) about lying to kids and she plainly told me it was not big deal to her. They forget about it in a minute and then you avoid the conflict. This is what I do, but I am not sure I agree with her.

Lately Ramona distrusts some of the things I say. She only trusts Sumner. She is a wise child. Sumner generally will not try to trick her. "Sumner, is it a bu-zert (translation: dessert) night?" "Sumner, was there really a little mouse in our house last year?" "Will my teacher Beth be at school today?" "Sumner did we watch T.V. already today?" I cannot be trusted on these subjects.

I realize that she sees through my little lies of omission and convenience. She wants authenticity. It has been said before that she takes after old Granabelle. In truth, she does.

I am not sure I even know how to be totally honest with her. It is really hard to not just make up "stories" to keep her content and pacified. Distraction has never worked with her.

The saddest thing of all is that I have been teaching Sumner to tell her little lies too. Tuesday we made pizzas. They each made their own and there were two pieces left, one from each of their pizzas. I put both of them in Sumner's lunch on Wednesday and on the way out the door to the bus stop, he asked what was in his lunch and I told him. Ever the math student he said, "So you gave me my piece and Ramona's piece." "Something like that," I dodged. "Well, there was one of hers and one of mine left, so you must have given me one of hers." Ramona cried, "Is he going to eat mine?" and dropped her shoes and her cooperative demeanor. "Let's go guys," I coaxed and winked at Sumner, "Let's just not worry about it." Ramona clearly was going to obsess about it. Sumner saw my wink and put his hand on her shoulder and gently said something like, "I won't eat your pizza." But he was going to. He winked back at me proudly, having done just what I asked. She calmed down and we made it to the bus stop in time. She forgot about it. But how many times will it take for Sumner to lie to her before she has no one to trust?

The thing is if you start lying, where does it stop? My mom used to make this slippery slope argument and I never was sure if I bought it. What harm does a little lie do? Sometimes? Nothing. Most of the time? It erodes the trust we all need to have between each other to live with and love one another. I am going to try to practice honesty. The task is daunting.