"Hey, Oma, you could come for my first day!"
"No, I can't. But maybe you could send me some pictures. What are you wearing for your first day?"
"Hmmm. Well, I guess you'll just have to wait for the pictures."
First days of school, (kindergarten, 3rd Grade, or college), moms sending their little ones off (no matter how old they are): these have been topics of discussion the past few weeks. The world can seem so big and scary and mean.
I think about little kids getting their feelings hurt, or their self esteem stomped on, and it makes me sad. It's so poignant because I know what it feels like. I'm acquainted with the sting of being left out (my dress was babyish because it had puffy sleeves) and being told I was ugly (I wore red and white checked glasses.) I knew the popular kids, and they walked home without me the first day of kindergarten. When my teacher found me crying on the school steps, she scolded me, and said I needed to "grow up." I was five. She told my mom I wasn't mature enough for school. I don't remember life getting easier when I turned six.
Judy had a story published today on Time Goes By. She told about observing a girl's heart being broken. She finished with these profound words:
"At some future point you'll realize that this experience is part of who you have become, and without it, part of you would be missing."
I want to anticipate new experiences with the excitement of Chloe, and I want to reflect on past experiences with the wisdom of Judy.