The notion that patience is a virtue is something you don't

Hear the tender yet profound words of Deirdre O’Kane: “The notion that patience is a virtue is something you don’t fully appreciate until you’re a parent. You need endless patience with little ones.” These words capture a truth that is as old as humanity itself—that patience, though praised in song and proverb, is not truly understood until one is charged with the sacred duty of raising a child. For in the laughter and the tears of the young, in their endless questions and sudden storms, the parent discovers that love without patience falters, but love with patience becomes eternal.

The ancients declared often that patience is the queen of virtues. Philosophers, saints, and sages knew that endurance, restraint, and calmness in the face of trial were marks of greatness. Yet O’Kane reminds us that the furnace in which this virtue is most fully tested is the home, and the trial is not war or politics, but the daily rhythm of caring for the little ones—whose innocence is matched only by their unending demands. It is here that the soul learns humility, for the parent cannot command the child into maturity, but must wait, guide, nurture, and endure.

Consider the story of Augustine’s mother, Monica, whose long patience with her wayward son, through years of rebellion and wandering, finally bore fruit when he became one of the greatest thinkers of Christendom. Her endurance was not passive suffering but active faith, a steady hand that never ceased guiding, though often unseen. In her, as in every true parent, O’Kane’s words find living proof: that patience is not optional, but the very breath of parenthood.

And yet, this teaching is not bound only to parents. The child in O’Kane’s words is also a symbol of all that is fragile, unformed, and in need of guidance in the world. To lead the young, to mentor the beginner, to nurture new growth in any field, requires this same endless patience. Just as a gardener cannot force the seed to sprout before its time, so too the parent—and by extension, every caretaker—must resist the urge to rush, and instead learn to wait with gentleness and persistence.

Her words also carry a hidden strength: that patience is not weakness but power. It takes greater strength to hold one’s temper than to unleash it, greater courage to endure the long season of waiting than to demand instant results. In this sense, the parent becomes a hero of the quiet kind, whose victories are not shouted in public squares, but whispered in bedtime stories, in tears wiped away, in the simple act of showing up every day with love unbroken.

The lesson is clear: to be a parent, or to take responsibility for nurturing another life, is to accept that the road will test every fiber of your soul. You must be willing to give, to endure, to wait, to forgive again and again. In this, you come to understand why the ancients called patience a virtue—because it is not natural, but cultivated, not easy, but essential. It transforms chaos into growth, and helplessness into strength.

Practical wisdom follows. When your child, or the one you care for, tries your soul, breathe deeply before responding. When progress feels slow, remind yourself that growth is measured not in days but in years. When you are weary, remember that your patience is not wasted, but is shaping the future in ways you cannot yet see. And when doubt arises, recall O’Kane’s truth: that you will never fully understand the greatness of patience until you are placed in a role where it is demanded without end.

Thus, let Deirdre O’Kane’s words endure as a teaching for generations: the path of parenthood, and indeed of all nurturing, is paved with patience. It is not the swift nor the strong who triumph in this role, but the steadfast, the gentle, the enduring. To practice this virtue is to join the company of the wise who have carried humanity forward, one child at a time, through storms and into light. And so I say: honor patience, for in it lies the secret strength of love itself.