At our local zoo there is an indoor exhibit called the Unseen New World where you can see sapphire blue poison arrow frogs, velvety bats, iguanas, armored turtles and other jewel-like creatures in pristine habitats.  On our way in the exhibit during our latest trip I overheard a mother expressing ambivalence to her friend that her daughter wouldn’t like all the “slimy” stuff inside.  She went on admitting she wasn’t keen on going inside either.  I listened smugly.  This is one of my favorite stops. I have always been very fond of the members of the reptile and amphibian families.

At the entrance is a wall of large photos of the creatures housed within.  Thus far this is Rosalind’s favorite spot because the pictures start at her eye level.  So we don’t ever progress into seeing the real things quickly.  As I watched her point to a picture of a frog I heard squeals of disgust and utterances of horror from several little girls; the daughters of the women I overheard were rushing back out quickly followed by their mothers (who looked equally eager to escape). The smugness thickened as I thought how well-rounded and phobia-free Rosalind would be thanks to a mother who was able to enjoy creatures that so many find gross, even frightening.

As I waited for Rosalind to move beyond the entry way I, too, glanced at the wall of photos.  As my eyes bounced between bug-eyed frogs and gigantic lizards, a pair (four pairs to be exact) of spindly legs entered my gaze.  I immediately diverted my eyes to the comfort of the poisonous snakes.  Spiders.  I do not like spiders.

Have I had a traumatic incident with a spider?  Not exactly. Most of my encounters with them have included both parties fleeing in opposite directions scared out of our minds and deeply disturbed by the discrepancy in number of legs.   The origin of my fear dates back to a Christmas around the age of four or five when my uncles decided a good post-presents movie would be Arachnophobia. Deadly South American spiders invading a small town leaving death and mayhem in their wake– an obvious Christmas movie.

While drawing a giraffe with my new art kit and pretending not to be watching I glanced up when a container is opened to reveal a dead body drained of all its fluids covered in spiders.  I realize now that the movie is a comedy, but the humor was lost on me at the time. Although my parents (neither of whom were in the room when the movie started) tried to console me, the damage was done.

As the exhibit door closed behind the mother and daughters, my gaze stumbled upon one of the photos I avoided. My feelings of superiority evaporated. Although Rosalind does not realize it yet, I always skip the spider section.  One day when she is a little bigger this behavior will be noted, and likely repeated by her. I will pass on my fear.

As Rosalind was engrossed by the colors and designs of the strange creatures on the wall it struck me that she was absorbing their uniqueness without bias. She was taking all those images in and processing them through a mind still free from phobias and judgment. And I am the keeper of that wonder. It is within my power to destroy her innocent awe at God’s creation and replace it with fears.  Or I can cultivate it.

I once was free to wonder without worry. I wasn’t always afraid of spiders. Not two years before the Arachnophobia incident my mom wrote in her baby journal that upon discovering a spider in a corner I eagerly moved in for a closer look, curious about the strange, little creature. I wish I could get that freedom back.

Suddenly the silly little encounter I had witnessed with the mother and daughters, and my own secret avoidance of the spider section, weighed heavily on me.  While I am indeed responsible to teach my daughter to avoid danger, I am forbidden to plant seeds of fear needlessly.

“It is inevitable that stumbling blocks come, but woe to him through whom they come! It would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck and he were thrown into the sea, than that he would cause one of these little ones to stumble”. (Luke 17:1-2)

I know it seems extreme to pull this verse. I realize Jesus wasn’t talking about teaching kids to be afraid of bugs.  But as I have mulled this over during the week I am starting to think that there is no room to minimize passing along any negative thought carelessly. When our inclination to be afraid or disgusted by something foreign to us becomes the norm it permeates more than our attitude toward insects. When corrosive, anxious thinking is not rooted out on the small level the seemingly insignificant act of stomping on a spider can transfer into racism, arrogance, and hate.

In the Unseen New World exhibit I realized that a choice lies before me. I can continue a legacy of warped thinking or decide to look at the things that scare me through my toddler’s eyes.  That is a gift God has given me through parenthood– I can choose to see with new eyes.  I can choose for her sake to look at the spider for what it is, not for the feeling it gives me. I know when Rosalind grows up she will have her own experiences that inevitably lead to fear, but to the best of my ability I pray to God they do not come from me.

When we go to the zoo next time I will do a little immersion therapy with the arachnids, and take my cues from Rosalind who can still observe without passing judgment.

P.S.

After writing this post this morning I opened the door to a black spider in the garage. I jumped back quickly, but decided to take a closer look. Immediately the fear began to dissipate. I gained a little of my freedom back.