The Village

Throughout the years I have had sort of a love-hate relationship with the well-known quote, “It takes a village to raise a child.” The saying apparently comes from the Nigerian Igbo community, and it suggests that it takes a whole community to raise a child. I distinctly remember, as a very young father, speaking about it in somewhat of a negative manner in a Sunday School class as I suggested that the primary responsibility of raising children falls upon the parents. I asserted that parents should not relinquish that responsibility to the community thinking that their children will be taught what they need to know and how they need to act from school and Church and the rest of the community. Certainly, the message that President Nelson gave us when the time in our Sunday meetings was shortened from three hours to two hours emphasized the primary role of parents: living and learning the gospel is to be home-centered and Church-supported. I felt strongly as I sat in that class that the responsibility of raising our children correctly was that of my wife and me. And certainly it is, and I still feel that way, but my pride concerning the matter—the “I can raise my own children, thank you” attitude—is now gone. Despite knowing that in the end the responsibility is all mine and my wife’s, I now realize more than ever that as parents we desperately need the help from the village, especially the village that is the Church and its members. As my children become more independent and their esteem for their parents shrinks just as rapidly as they seem to be growing taller, I am ever more grateful for the influence that other righteous individuals have on my children. As I listened yesterday to my son answer gospel questions in his quorum class in a way that he rarely would at home, I was filled with gratitude for the influence of others in helping us encourage our children on the covenant path.

                One of the moments when I realized most acutely that my power to influence my children was far smaller than I wanted it to be was when I tried to teach them piano. Their teacher had stopped teaching, and so I thought I could do it instead. I realized immediately that such a long-term solution was untenable: they will sit for another teacher and follow instructions, but at home for Dad? No way. Now as they are even older, I’m quickly learning how “cool” other adults are in their eyes and how outdated my interests are from their perspective. But that’s okay, and I am grateful especially for their young men and young women leaders who accept them and love them and teach them the gospel too. And I give thanks for neighbors like those last night who invited us over for dinner and got my children engaged in a family night activity that they never would have gathered together for at home. Of course, we will not stop trying to teach them the principles of the gospel and I hope that what we try to teach is deep down sinking in. I certainly do not want the words of the Lord to Frederick G. Williams to ever apply to me: “You have not taught your children light and truth, according to the commandments; and that wicked one hath power, as yet, over you, and this is the cause of your affliction” (Doctrine and Covenants 93:42). And yet I realize that like it was for Alma the Younger, it may be others—even heavenly or earthly angels—who have the greatest impact on my children to keep them on the straight and narrow path. And so, with much more humility than I had a decade ago, I give thanks to all those in the “village” who teach my children to live the gospel of Jesus Christ and keep His commandments. With John I say, “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth,” and I do not care who it is that helps them walk that path if they indeed walk it (3 John 1:4).