By Heather L.

Mormon mother talks of patience with her son

It all started with two loaves of banana bread that turned out perfectly!

We ate almost the whole first loaf for breakfast. My plan was to take the second loaf to our church social that evening – I was so excited! Beautiful and delicious banana bread isn’t easy for me, and having it done ahead of time was miraculous.

Later that morning, I was working intently on a very important document on my computer when my five year old came and asked if he could have some more banana bread.

I uttered the fatal words, “Sure, just a second,” fully intending to finish quickly. We all know where good intentions lead! Mine led to a sweet voice at my elbow, “Look, Mom!”

I turned and gasped. “You’ve ruined my banana bread!”

As I grabbed what was left of the banana bread from his hopeful hands, my son’s face crumbled before my eyes, and he ran to hide in the pantry.

Turning to take my banana bread – my now mutilated banana bread — to the counter, a poster on the fridge caught my eye. It was a poster I made with a picture of this same little boy hiding behind a glass of spilled milk – a poster I made to remind me of President Thomas S. Monson’s counsel:

“Never let a problem to be solved become more important than a person to be loved.”1

Sobs were coming from the pantry, and I began to sob, too. I had let my anger over my “beautiful” banana bread – my temporal, temporary banana bread — become more important than my tender-hearted boy!

I knelt with him in the pantry, and apologized with all my heart.

“I love you more than banana bread!” I tried to reassure him – hard to do when a little one’s heart is breaking. Taking a deep breath, I asked, “What can we do to fix it?”

He looked up, hope returning to his eyes. “Well, we could…,” and he started listing ideas.

Going back to the banana bread together, I realized there was actually a lot left, despite the great abyss he had scooped from the middle. We got a knife, and a pretty bowl, and began to cut it into bite-sized chunks, like store samples. The bowl was soon filled, and thankfully, feelings were on the mend.

No one at that church social will remember that dish of banana bread.

Except for me – I’m trying to be sure that I never forget it!