TOUGH LOVE
"Living in this house is like living in hell," screamed the young girl as she stamped her feet on the way upstairs to her room. The mother stood looking at her daughter, a hint of tears forming in her eyes. She wanted to run up the stairs and hug her daughter but she knew the timing would be wrong. Her daughter had openly refused to clear off the table and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher: she had to be disciplined. Still, her daughter's earlier acquisition that her mother did not love her had hit a raw nerve. The mother had come very close to shouting at her daughter: "Who was it that always stood beside you in tough times; who was it that cheered the loudest during your soccer games; who was it that constantly encouraged you when you felt like you were failing; or just who do you think it is that constantly keeps you in her prayers?" But she had choked back the harsh questions. Instead, she said a silent prayer that her daughter would eventually come to understand her mother loves her very much.
As she watched her daughter angrily slam her bedroom door, the mother wondered if perhaps her daughter wasn't just a little bit spoiled: perhaps by too much loving attention from her parents. To be honest, her daughter had reached that age where she seemed to think that her parents only existed to serve her wants. The young teenage girl had lost sight of the fact she was part of a family and that she was expected to contribute to the family as well as take from the family. A smile began to creep across the woman's face as she reflected on her daughter's
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