Noticing good...

 





My six year old daughter handed me the final report on progress. There was a steady stream of positive check marks on all counts.

And only one check mark standing dejectedly apart from the rest.

“How can I, mom?” asked my child with such severity that did not match the small disheveled man staring at me through rose-colored glasses sitting on the tip of her nose.

I looked at her. Her disheveled hair and dirty knees said that today was a good day in kindergarten. I looked back to the report and then back at her.

Her face, beautiful and round, still had traces of child — unlike the face of her older sister, which stretched increasingly resembled the oval adult.

Finally, I looked again at the report... and the lonely tick.

Before I had time to make a conscious decision, my face lit up with an encouraging smile.

I held her in my arms and pressed my lips to her silky smooth cheek. And before you say, I might've closed my eyes and offered a silent prayer of thanks; this child has changed so much over the last year.

“You're fine. Just great,” I whispered in her ear in a voice that contains a mixture of emotions and happiness.

I've decided I'm not going to say anything about the check and the words written next to it. It was just something that didn't need to talk right now... or perhaps ever.

But this child, with her bright blue eyes in sassy glasses in a pink frame, nothing to hide.

“What's it say?”, – she pointed a small finger at the printed words that followed standing apart from the others tick.

Myself, I read: Distracted in large groups. But I already knew about it. I knew it before it was written in an official document. This news was not a surprise to me. You see, every day this child comes home with another insightful observation:

“Max is on the right knee, a group of warts. Exactly nineteen. I counted them.”
“Miss Stevens new haircut. It is multi-layered. It looks very nice.”
“Miss Evans eats Greek yogurt every day. I think her favorite with the taste of peach because she often brings it!”
“Sarah is an amazing painter. She can draw butterflies that look like they could fly off the page!”

It does not change and outside of school:

“This waitress is trying very hard. We should leave her a little bigger tip.”
“This man she can text while driving.”
“Grandpa slower than the others. We have to wait for him.”
“Hurry! Look out the window. View a good view.”

Distracted or observant?
Distracted or susceptible?
Distracted or sensitive?

I choose observant, sensitive and empathetic.

“What's it say, Mama?”. My child was eager to learn the meaning of those words to read that she still could not.

My children know that I always tell them the truth, even if it is difficult or inconvenient. So, I read the comment made by the teacher aloud word for word: “Distracted in large groups.”

My daughter smiled sheepishly brought a hand to her mouth. “Oh yeah. I do a lot of looking around.”

Before she could begin to feel the slightest bit of shame or failure, I landed on my knees and looked her straight in the eye. And then I uttered the words, giving them all the conviction that I felt. I wanted her to not just hear these words, I wanted her to feel them.

“Yes. You do a lot of looking around.
Have you noticed how Carter scraped his knee on the tour, and you comforted him.
Have you noticed a little girl who could not climb the haystack, and you helped her.
Have you noticed how the Banjo coming out of my nose, and the vet said that it was good that we brought him in on time.
You can see breathtaking views every time we drive across the bridge.
And you know what? You were the one who taught me to notice.
And I don't want you stopped doing it. It's your gift. This is your gift you are to the world.”

At the sight of blissful satisfaction on her face could think that she just took a bite of the caramel ice cream covered gummy bears and chocolate chips. She literally glowed. Glowed! And even when she tried to suppress a smile, to look serious, she did not.

“Okay, Mom. I never cease to notice,” she solemnly swore, with a precious toothless smile. And lucky me, because I knew that her teacher is one of the most extremely loving teachers that I was lucky to know, too, wants this child retains this ability.

In life we often have to make decisions, to understand what's really important. These decisions are not always popular; they are not always the status quo. They may look down on outsiders and to reject the “experts”. But after you take them — solutions that tell you your intuition, you always get the confirmation. Sometimes it takes a few days or weeks, sometimes even years, but it comes. And when that happens, you know you made the right choice for your child, for your family, for yourself. Fortunately, the confirmation of the correctness of my choice, which I made in connection with that report came in a few days.

I just made a new swift. It was shorter than usual and I felt a little insecure. I went into the living room, still in pajamas, with this new hairstyle.

“Wow, Mom. You look so cool! I like your hair.”

It was the voice of my observation of the child. I relaxed, smiled, and immediately felt better. And apparently, my girl felt that her words calmed me down. Because what she said next made me freeze.

“You were just waiting for someone to notice, right?”

I covered her mouth with her hand to hold back the joyful tears and awe.

Oh, my God! Yes. Yes. We are all just waiting for someone to notice – notice our pain, notice our scars, notice our fear, notice our joy, notice our triumphs, notice our courage.

And anyone who notices this is a rare and amazing gift.

Thank you, my sweet child. You are only six years old, but you are so wise. And through you I also learn to see the good before I see anything else:

To see the high scores before I see the low ...
To see that you're dressed herself, before noticing that it's a combination of winter boots and summer shirts...
To see that you made your own Breakfast, before noticing scattered on the floor flakes ...
To see the beautiful illustrations that you created before will notice that the floor stained...
To see the beauty and good in those who cross my path, before I will see their mistakes and imperfections.

That's how I want to live.

Notice the good — always good – before anything else... and more than anything else.published

Author: Rachel Macy Stafford

Source: anna-psy.livejournal.com/15658.html