In our boys early years, I would sit down before school started each year and write a letter to each of their teachers. The boys delivered the letters to them during the first week of classes. It was our way of letting the teacher know that we were going to be involved parents. (Teachers probably thought we would be helicopter parents — I  don’t think we were that bad!) But more than that, it was an opportunity to introduce our children to their teachers. We knew that these handsome little boys would be faces in a crowd and we wanted to give them the best possible start to their school year.

The oldest’s letter went something like this:

“As the oldest of three boys, he is a very responsible young man who hates school, but if he trusts you, he will follow you to the moon and back. He has traveled to many states, seen many amazing things, visited numerous museums, and as a result, is curious about how and why things work. Learning is hard for him. He will ask for help — but only when he’s desperate. He’s hard on himself and thinks that things should come easier than they do. Please be patient with him.”

The middle son’s letter was different:

“This boy taught himself to read when he was four. Learning comes easily to him. He has a photographic memory, is fascinated by WWII, and can explain how submarines work. If you tell him what you plan to teach, he will come to school the next day knowing more about it than you can imagine. He will challenge you — if you misquote a fact, he will correct you and often, he will be right. He is a perfectionist and is very hard on himself. We are trying to help him find balance. Your job will be a tough one, but we believe in you and will pray for you. Keep in touch with us and we will help as we can.”

The letter for the youngest was different still:

“You will find that he is a kind, caring, and gentle young man. His goal in life is to make people around him laugh; we apologize in advance because he’s good at it. He knows how to behave, but may need a gentle reminder or two. When he gets “tickled” he will laugh until he cries — often slapping his leg in the process. He does imitations of adults, movie stars, cartoon characters, and yes, teachers. He learns fairly easily, reads voraciously, loves CALVIN AND HOBBES, and cares deeply about the people who surround him. Honestly, for him, relationships are far more important than learning or grades.”

Like all parents, we knew that our boys were very different young men. They still are. Like all parents, one of the fascinating challenges we faced was helping each of our boys to succeed in the areas where he had ability. While growing stronger in areas of strength is important, we also tried to stretch them and help them to challenge themselves — to find new areas of interest, and to determine new abilities. More than anything, however, we wanted our boys to see God as a loving Heavenly Father and to make the decision to love, follow, and serve Him. We still want that.

As the mom, I love to look back at pictures from our yesterdays: baby pictures, school pictures, holidays, vacations, and everyday snap shots. I often “paint a picture” in my mind of the growth of each of these young men, and sometimes I wonder if we did enough. Was there sufficient laughter and play balanced by times of hard work? Did we travel, learn, and create enough? Was our time together as a family valued? Did we spend enough time together learning about God and serving others?

Naturally, we weren’t perfect, but the pictures remind me that maybe, just maybe, with God’s help we did okay. We see the men they have become and we are proud of them and the choices they are making. Are we disappointed sometimes? Of course, but they are good men — men of character and strength.

These men of character moved from the “little boy stage” to young boys in classrooms, at music lessons, in libraries, at Church, in Sunday School, and in our home — wherever it might have been. Many, many people helped us as we worked to raise them. There were teachers, pastors, Sunday School teachers, Youth leaders, friends and friends’ moms and dads. Ultimately, we are the ones who are responsible for the way they were raised. We were careful to choose people who we believed would love our boys for the  people they were and the men they could become.

That’s why we wrote the letters. That’s why we prayed for their teachers, friends, friends’ parents, neighbors, and the church members who surrounded them. It’s why we prayed for the ones they would love and choose to spend their life with — and it’s why we still do.

Being the Mom is a great honor and privilege, but it is an enormous responsibility — one I wouldn’t trade for anything. This whole Mom thing is one of my favorites, no matter how old those boys get!