Rice the Sacred Object

In China where I grew up, rice was not like bread you can buy and eat as much as you want. Families lived on government distributed coupons for rice allowance. Not that my brother and I experienced any taste of hunger what so ever. Not that I developed craving for rice due to the lack of it. Only the formation of ideology within certain environment was compelling. We were taught at home and at school that rice was a "sacred object" that stood no chance of being wasted in any way. My respect for the grain was ingrained in my mentality.

Today, we shop at this store where they started to give you a sack of 8 lb rice for free if you purchase over $100 worth of groceries. I looked at the 4 sacks of rice that quickly lined up at the kitchen corner and thought, "Wow, how heavenly compared with old days!" Mind you, I only consume about a sponful of cooked rice a day myself.

Long before our overstock of rice, my hubby allowed Sienna to use rice for her creative sand play in our kitchen. I was a little, just a little, uneasy even though I thought it was a great idea. When I sweep away the wasted rice on the floor after Sienna's play, I swear I could hear my beloved grandma's voice scolding from high heaven right above my head. Still I have no trouble seeing Sienna play with the rice.

The trouble starts when she refuses to reuse the rice. Every time she wants a fresh pot of rice when it is mixed with other objects like plastic beads or cereal. Yesterday, again she wanted to distribute new rice on 6 stainless steel ice cream cups. I decided to put a stop on the endless waste of the "sacred object." She protested, of course, because I ruined her dinner party. She used one of those ice cream cups and cut the surface of the table with marks.

She was sent to the walk-in closet for time-out without a second of delay. I made sure it last for 4 and half minutes as she is 4 and half years old. I also took away her candy allowance for the day.

In the evening, I was trying to wash her hair, she was exceptionally cooperative. "See, Mommy, I am good today, I don't move," she acknowledged, herself. "Yeah, why?" I asked. "Oh, because I had a good cry today." I knew she was referring to this morning's time-out.

It looks like when you defend things deem sacred, you defend certain values you deem important as well.