She Asked If Her Baptism Still Counted After a Small Lie

"Don't make the face," Lily said Sunday night, with the hall light on and her hand on the doorframe of her room, and I realized I had no idea I owned one. She told me the reading log she'd turned in Friday had Wednesday and Thursday filled in, that she'd written Misty of Chincoteague for Wednesday because she knows the title by heart, and that she hadn't opened a book either night.

I said thank you for telling me, which came out sounding like a waiter. She got into bed and asked, very quietly, if it still counted. I said what still counted and she said her baptism, and I sat down on the floor because my legs had decided for me. David had put her under in that white jumpsuit less than three months before, and in her head a log with two made-up nights on it weighed about the same. I told her yes, it counts, and no, it isn't used up. Monday morning she told her teacher before the bell in her own words and left the two nights blank. That's the whole story and I'm leaving it there.

What does a child think a lie has done to her?

Adults hear "I fudged the log" and think about the log. A child who has just been baptized hears a verdict on herself, and she reaches for the biggest one she has a word for, which is whether it washed off and whether she's still in.

Shame and godly sorrow look nearly the same from across a room, and Paul separates them in one sentence that's easy to underline and hard to use.

For godly sorrow worketh repentance to salvation not to be repented of: but the sorrow of the world worketh death.

2 Corinthians 7:10

An LDS Living piece for parents puts the difference in kid-sized terms. Shame says "I am bad," while remorse says "I made a mistake, and I can feel sadness for that mistake but understand I am not bad." Both children cry. One of them keeps coming to find you, and the other goes quiet and starts hiding things, and the hiding is what worries me most about a first lie at eight.

Isaiah 1:18 in this week's Come, Follow Me reading

We're in Isaiah 1 to 12 this week, and chapter 1 is hard going. God says he has nourished children who rebelled against him (verse 2). He says the new moons and appointed feasts are a trouble to him (verse 14), and that when the people spread their hands in prayer he'll hide his eyes because their hands are full of blood (verse 15). Then this.

Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.

Isaiah 1:18

The line shows up on cards and cross-stitch, usually without the verses on either side. Verse 16 says wash you, make you clean, and verse 17 says learn to do well. Verse 19 follows with "If ye be willing and obedient" and verse 20 with "if ye refuse and rebel." So the forgiveness arrives inside a conversation, and "Come now" and "let us reason together" are the first words, ahead of any snow.

I think about that order whenever I'm tempted to give the lecture first and the absolution at the end, which a child hears as "I'll forgive you once you've suffered enough." Talk first, in a voice that says come here.

I like the second color too, crimson going to wool, which is soft and not bright. That's only my reading.

What to say in the first minute

Thank her for telling you before you say a word about the lie, even if the whole house is cross with her. I wrote once about a boy I thanked in front of a whole class and what the public thank-you did to him in I Praised a Sandwich and He Stopped Sharing, so keep this one quiet and short.

Next, say what happened in plain words, and "That wasn't true, and you told me anyway" works fine. "You lied" is accurate too, but the first leaves her standing in the room as herself. The Church-side material I'd looked at warns against "you're a liar" and "you're naughty," and I'd add anything with "such a" or "so" in front of her name, because those words turn an event into a person.

One sentence about how it landed on you, if it did.

Past one, she's managing your feelings and she'll get good at it.

Hand her a repair that fits her size. Somebody was told something untrue, so somebody gets told the truth, by the person who said the untrue thing. Parents tend to do this part themselves because it's faster, and it takes away the one piece that would have made her feel lighter. The teacher, the brother or the neighbor can hear it from her.

Forgiven, and still a log to fix

The Atonement cleans the sin, and the log still needs correcting while the trust comes back a little at a time. Those small consequences are worth having because they point straight at what went wrong. Taking away dessert over a fudged reading log points at nothing, and it only teaches a child that grown-ups hand out misery by mood.

Doctrine and Covenants 121 has a line on correction.

Reproving betimes with sharpness, when moved upon by the Holy Ghost; and then showing forth afterwards an increase of love toward him whom thou hast reproved, lest he esteem thee to be his enemy;

Doctrine and Covenants 121:43

Correction can be firm, and the love goes up after it, where she can see it, in an arm around a shoulder or a snack or talk about something else entirely. Corrected and then colder is the combination that makes a child decide the correction was the point.

Frequently Asked Questions

How can I tell shame from healthy guilt in a young child?

What she does next tells you. A child in shame goes small, says things like "I'm bad" or "I'm stupid," and doesn't want to fix anything. A child with ordinary guilt is sad but still reaches for you, can be comforted, and will help put it right.

What if my child did something wrong and won't admit it?

Leave the door open and stay out of the doorway, with something like "I think that wasn't the whole truth, and I'm not angry, and whenever you want to tell me I'm here," and then stop interrogating, because the children who get pressured only learn to lie better, and some need an hour while others need a week.

Is it a problem if my child just says sorry because I told her to?

A forced sorry is a fine place to start and a poor place to stop. Ask what she'd do differently next time and listen to the answer, since repentance that lasts comes from her own conscience and not from your tone of voice.

My newly baptized child is afraid she's ruined it. What do I tell her?

Tell her the Atonement isn't something she can use up, and use those words. Baptism started her on a path and repenting is how she keeps walking it after the stumbles. Say it sitting down.

Once a child has confessed and been forgiven, don't bring it up again. Not next week when she's late with her chores, not as a joke at dinner, not in the voice that starts with "remember when you." A child who's been told it's gone will be watching the next time she does something wrong, and what you do then is what she'll believe about the first time.

with love, Melissa