Today I was absolutely floored when my phone rang at about 3 pm and I saw the teenagers name light up. 

I answered it- and this deep voice asked me to come and pick him up. He was done with his run. The voice on the other end called me Mom. 

It didn’t sound like my son. 

It sounded like almost a man. 

When I told the Voice, your voice sounds deeper, he laughed and it didn’t crack. 


So I came home and sat in a short spot of denial. But then the voice came in and started talking to me. 

When he talks I always listen. As we talked about his day he shared a lot…but one thing he said stood out to me. 

He said in an almost nonchalant way, “my friends never save me a seat.” 

I asked him what he meant and he said there was no room at their table so he sat with different friends. He didn’t sound upset but I could tell he was thinking about it. 

And then the light bulb went on. 

This is why it’s so important to listen because sometimes there are words that are not being said. 

Like “I always save seats.” 

You see yes, he’s changing. He’s taller than me. His voice has been taken over by some almost man. And many days he prefers to be with his friends. 

But that is not him. Those changes don’t define him- they are just a part of growing up. Who he is, is exactly the same person I’ve seen in him since he was a baby. 

A good soul. A sweet soul. 

And as he grew- A considerate soul. My Jonah is one of the most considerate people I’ve ever met. 

We are entering the age of making the team- making the grade- making the future. He knows how many days until he can get his driving permit. We are already talking about High School a year away, and what the next step is. All this along with heartache and hormones…and that’s just his Mother. 

But the person, he is still so considerate. 

I remember in second grade it started. He was always the last person out. Grace would need to nurse and I’d be engorged and all the other kids would come out. Eventually he would get to the car…months into it I asked why he was always the last. I thought maybe he’d gotten into the pattern of using the bathroom, or forgetting his lunch and jacket. But No…that wasn’t it. 

He was holding the door- that entire time, for everyone. 

He wore his heart on his sleeve as he would  cry and tell me when kids were being bullied. And then it took four months for him to tell me he was being bullied, by an adult. 

He thought older. But he was still little. 

Twice he has helped people who have been on crutches for months at a time to classes. One of them I didn’t find out for a long time about, until one of his friends told me.  When I asked him about it he shrugged and said it was the right thing to do. 

Another time he was worried about a friend and came to me. I was able to to talk to the friends “adult” and his loyalty and courage was noticed by all of us- because it was a hard conversation. 

He will never win an award for kindness. He isn’t noticed for the little things he does. Because he does them quietly. I’ve never heard him ask for ackowledgement. He is considerate in the most quiet way…asking an adult how they are doing. Noticing the person lagging behind. Being there for his friends. He even has a little of my grudge against technology and is determined not to be glued to a screen the entire time he’s with other people. 

By no means is he perfect. When he gets angry or hurt he can hold a grudge for a long time. When he decides he doesn’t like someone, he commits to that. He talks back sometimes. He can be impatient with his siblings. And he has figured out if he plays piano for a long time he has less chores. 

But all of us have faults. 

I’m just so blessed by his heart. It really is so good. 

I asked him at dinner if it hurt his feelings that there wasn’t a seat at the table and he said “It’s not a big deal Mom. I found another seat. I wouldn’t want my friends to feel bad.” And I agreed with him. He has good friends, amazing kids and I know they love him. Sometimes a table fills quickly Jonah knows that. I know that. 

So I told him I’d always save a seat for him. And he said he knew that. And he hugged me after dinner, this tall person. And the voice didn’t sound like an almost man, it sounded like Jonah. 

My Jonah. In case you can’t tell I’m super proud of him.  


Ps. I got his permission to write about him. I think he thought it was a little silly to write about him.