On a lighter note, when our daughter, Suzanne, was 2 or 3 years old, I remember Anne and I had an argument. You know, one of those husband-wife, ping-pong discussions where the words fly furiously between the two, each one topping the other with something dreadful. Suddenly, I turned and saw the sad look on Suzanne’s face, as this little person was turning her head back and forth, listening in dismay at our argument.

I stopped and looked at her and said, “Suzanne, Daddy’s been a naughty boy. Daddy shouldn’t talk to Mommy this way. I’m so sorry.” To which Suzanne’s face lit up with a big ear-to-ear grin, and she said, “Daddy, naughty, too?! Daddy, naughty, too?!” She’d heard us say, “Suzanne, naughty.” Now, she had the sense of dignity to realize she wasn’t the only one who was imperfect. Her own dad was just like her. With that admission came not only the negative reality of my need to admit when I was wrong, but it also gave her the affirmation she was not alone in those times when her actions were not right.

Lesson 3: Another one of the best gifts I can give my children is to stand by them when they’ve messed up.

I remember the time when I was a block and a half away from home. A buddy and I were having a snowball fight with rocks packed into the snowball. I threw one at him, he ducked, and it flew right past him through the neighbor’s living room window. I high-tailed it home, but apparently the neighbors recognized my rear end as it disappeared around the corner. I was hiding in the basement when I heard the doorbell ring. My dad went to the door. The neighbor was holding the rock and said, “Your son, Johnny, just threw this rock through my living room window.”

Intuitively, my dad seemed to be aware I was hiding in the basement. He brought me up, confronted me with the evidence, and I had to admit what I had done wrong. Then, graciously, he did not disown me, castigating me in front of the neighbor. No, he said, “Johnny and I will fix your window.” The neighbor left. I’m not sure what discipline I received. I’m sure there were some negative consequences to what I did. What I remember the most is that my dad embraced me with unconditional love to the extent that he took me over to the neighbor’s house. He measured the windowpane. He took me to the hardware store. We bought the glass, the putty, the paint — all that was involved in fixing that window. The Reverend John Huffman Sr., humbled himself in front of the entire neighborhood, identifying with his son. My greatest pain was having embarrassed my father. My greatest affirmation was to see him unflinchingly stand by my side, identifying with me in what I did wrong and helping me make it right.

Unconditional love is so important. The withholding of love is so counter-productive. It doesn’t mean you agree with what your child or grandchild does wrong. It means they know you’re there for them, that there is nothing they could ever do that would cause you to disown them.