I had a conversation with a 6, almost 7-year-old year old today. I paused after reading a scene in a book, where the character is momentarily conflicted as she confronts a selfish desire. She learns a magic spell that will make her the most beautiful woman in the world. She wants this terribly (as any woman would). Through a magic premonition she sees that if she performs this spell, it will have catastrophic consequences; a war will break out between nations, people will die, much will be lost.
I asked my 6, almost 7-year-old friend, what she would choose. At first, she said she would choose to do the spell. I looked at her hard and asked, “Really? Even if that choice caused a war?” It didn’t take her long to revoke her initial response, but she tried to negotiate, looking for a way in which she could have what she wanted without the consequences (as any of us would). I told her the consequences were assured. Sighing in resignation and annoyance, she leaned back on her pillow and told me she wouldn’t do the spell. I nodded approvingly and acknowledged that it was a hard choice.
This led to a conversation about morality. I asked if she knew how the right choice felt in her body and heart. At that point, her brother chimed in and said he could see it. They both agreed that when it came down to it, they just knew what the right thing to do was. I said, of course you do. We all do. That’s your soul speaking.
This unexpected conversation about morality and the human conscience was flowing surprising well (being that she is six). So, I kept going. I asked what motivated her to make a moral choice, even if it meant sacrificing something she wanted. She told me a story that involved her friend and a stuffed animal that had been misplaced. I’ll spare you the details. Basically, it came down to the fact that it felt too bad to choose a selfish desire over what she knew was right.
We all face such moral dilemmas. As we get older, the stakes get higher. I’ll quote from Harry Potter now, “There will come a day when we must choose between what is right and what is easy.”
We got to talking about lies, though I’m not quite sure how we got there. I told her never to lie, even about something small, because the truth always comes out. We always get caught. Whether it’s in five minutes, five years or five lifetimes. The truth always comes out. She scrunched her nose and asked me, “How?” I shrugged and said, “That’s the magic of Truth. It can’t be suppressed. It just can’t. Eventually it will surface. Eventually the lie will be exposed.”