I promise this post will not be all about the weather and the loads of white stuff that keep falling like overzealous popcorn out of the sky. Surely, you’ve gotten enough of that from other sources. Instead, it’s about my son’s insistence that I take a look at the newest creation he made in kindergarten today. Nevermind that I was driving, and he was pulling it out of his backpack at an inconvenient time. “Can you wait until we get home?” I asked. I’ve tried to encourage the kids to hold off on sharing their day’s work until I can actually take time to look at it and not risk getting into an accident. But sometimes, waiting seems just too hard, especially when you’re 6 and school is still new and wonderful. I’ve also come to realize some of the best end-of-school-day energy swirls about in the van immediately after school, and it’s the kind of energy that is fleeting. Oftentimes, by the time we step foot in the door, the school day has been all but forgotten as after-school snacks become the urgent focus. “But Mom, remember that book you used to read me? I made a picture of it.” We came to a red light. I looked back to see, and my heart melted just like the snow on a warm winter’s day. “Oh, yes, it’s Peter from ‘The Snowy Day.’ I recognized it right away! I love it!”
Here’s Ezra Jack Keats’ award-winning version (small because otherwise the resolution is horrible):
Here’s my 6-year-old’s version (larger because, well, I’m a proud mama):
I love this part of parenting. I love how my kids refresh my own memories of childhood, and keep the world interesting to me, and remind me again and again the wonder of creating something new — even if the idea for it has been borrowed from someone who’s had a few more years to perfect the technique. There’s nothing like seeing the beginning of something wonderful — the potential of something big within the heart of a child.