Hardly the Invention of Lying

The children burst through the door after school, amid tears, shouts, and accusations.

"Mom?"

"Mom!! He's lying!"

"No I'm not. Mom?!"

"Yes you are! Mom!!"

"What is going on? Whoa. Stop. Just a--" The dam burst. Yelling over the top of the other, trying to be the first to tell the story, neither the voice of reason. It is amazing how much noise two children can make. "Stop. STOP!! Okay...we're going to talk one at a time. You'll both get a turn. Griffin, you first."

It didn't go that smoothly, but the stories finally did pour out and stood in total opposition to one another.

"He's lying!"

"She's lying!"

"How can he say that?" Logan blubbered. "Ever since I turned 8, I've been trying very hard not to lie!!"

"Okay. Logan, it is going to be fine. Look, it's clear that one of you is not telling the truth, and I can easily find out who that is. All I have to do is call the parents of the other children who were there. Do I need to do that? Or is someone going to tell the truth right now, because I'll tell you what. If I do have to make that phone call and find out who isn't being honest? That person is going to be in a lot more trouble."

Immediately, Griffin hung his head.  "I'm lying," he confessed.

Two days later we sat in church together. As they began passing the Sacrament Logan whispered proudly, "I think I'll read the scriptures." She opened her scriptures to where she had left off days before and began reading quietly in my ear. "And wo unto the liar for he shall be thrust down to hell." She slowly turned to face me, her eyes big with sudden realization. "I'm worried about Griffin after reading that verse," she whispered.

"Well, honey." I stifled a smile. The timing was impeccable. "He's only six. He's just learning."

"...Oh, okay..." but she didn't seem wholly convinced.

A few minutes later I overheard her whispering to her brother. "Griffin. I want you to read this verse. 'Wo unto the liar for he shall be thrust down to hell.' This is a very important verse that you should remember, okay?"

And bless his little, gentle heart, he responded without offense and with a very serious, "Okay."

It occurs to me that perhaps I should remind her of the scripture regarding the beam in one's own eye, but for all there is wrong about this scenario, there is so much that is right. Watching my children grow is both funny and tender.

Childhood is a remarkably unique time in that their ability to fight is only matched by their ability to forgive. They constantly bump and trip over each other, one moment in love, the next in confrontation, but in that ying and yang that is the sibling experience, they are one another's very best teachers. It is through that jostling that the rough edges are knocked off. They learn empathy; they learn to apologize; and, in this case, they learn that liars are thrust down to hell.

Look. Somebody had to say it. (wink.)