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Brave, Party of One

Posted on Jun 3, 2014 by in Faith, Family | 9 comments

Brave, Party of One

We had to force her to go.IMG_6361

It was my brilliant idea to sign Abby up for a one week theater camp. Crafts, songs, dancing, acting all with a fun mermaid theme sounded like something she’d love.

The only thing is, our little introvert does not love trying new things.

She promised to try the first day. But after rushing out the door, hustling through morning traffic, trying to find the location, and standing in a long line outside in the rain, her resolve started to melt. I could see it happening as she wilted against me, her courage disappearing faster than the dry patches of sidewalk. Her chin was working strangely, trying to fight the surfacing tears.

The registration guy wore a silly crab-hat to fit the underwater theme. He escorted us down the hallway and showed us a basket containing a lanyard with Abby Haupt printed on it. We deposited her Tinkerbell lunch box in the basket. Then he shooed us into a gym full of kids. Abby took one look at that situation and the tears began; she hid her face in my side.

I sank down onto the dirty gym floor beside the other kids, Abby still trying to hide in my shirt while I awkwardly juggled Susanna, my purse, and an orange paper with Haupt printed on it for the pick up line.

Hey, I said to the long blonde hair wedged under my elbow, it’s ok to cry.  There’s no shame in crying. Just go ahead. I know you feel shy.  It’ll be ok. 

Another mom dragged in a crying girl in, angrily telling her to stop.Abby sunlight in hair

My mind raced. We’d already paid for the week. This wasn’t just a couple of hours; it was all day, every day until Friday.  I just wanted to take her home, hold her close, paint pictures together, and forget all about theater camp.

Other kids kept coming into the gym, spotting friends they knew, waving wildly and chatting happily. We didn’t know a single other person there. Abby’s face emerged from my side, tear streaked and peering around. I made a joke and elicited a small, watery smile.

I thought of Brene Brown’s research in Daring Greatly.

“Children with high levels of hopefulness have experience with adversity. They’ve been given the opportunity to struggle and in doing that they learn how to believe in themselves. Raising children who are hopeful and who have the courage to be vulnerable means stepping back and letting them experience disappointment, deal with conflict, learn how to assert themselves, and have the opportunity to fail. If we’re always following our children into the arena, hushing the critics, and assuring their victory, they’ll never learn that they have the ability to dare greatly on their own.”

I caught the eye of a sweet young teacher nearby. I untangled myself from Abby and inquired about the the teacher of the six year old’s, hoping it was her. She pointed out a large, curly head man in the center of the gym who was cavorting around trying to make kids laugh. Inwardly, I sighed. Abby had always been more shy around men. The young teacher retrieved the man, who came to talk to Abby and invited her over to where the six year old’s were sitting.

She went with him, and I knew my part of the battle was over. If she had refused to go, I didn’t know what my next move would be. Parenting doesn’t include a script. Or directions.

I watched her sit down. She still wasn’t smiling. I stepped into the hallway, my heart still wringing. I knelt down, deposited Susanna on the floor, and dug around in my purse for paper. No paper. I had a Kohl’s gift card, so I pulled out the card and used the pink cardboard holder. I found a purple marker and wrote, Abby, you are BRAVE. Love, Mommy

I carefully put the card in her lunchbox, still sitting in the hallway. She’d get that little piece of encouragement at lunchtime, but she’d still have to make it until four p.m. We’d pray her through. I left the school, drove straight to Krispy Kreme, and got a blueberry donut. Sheesh. Being a Mom is hard work.

Later at dinnertime, we went around the table sharing the best part of our day and what we’re proud of for ourselves. When it was Abby’s turn, she said, My best part of the day was sitting with my new friend at lunch and I am proud of myself for having courage and going to theater camp today.

Hallelujah and Amen.

Brave, party of one.

9 Comments

  1. Wow! So proud of sweet Abby. And YOU for letting her go. Love you!

  2. Indeed, one of the hardest parts of parenting is not being a stumbling block. Good for you, May God continue to bless your parenting.

  3. I love you, friend! So proud of you both!

  4. This reminds me of the first day I left my daughter at kindergarten…. I can still feel my throat tighten from that experience! Thanks for sharing. You were both brave

    • Pat, I was a mess on Abby’s first day of kindergarten. Well, you can imagine. Needless to say, there was a lot of pacing and praying going on. 🙂 🙂

  5. So sweet and tender! I too, have a few such little girl personalities in our home as well. It is always so encouraging to see them choose to step out, face those fears, and the warm rush of confidence and sweet reward that follows–I did it! We prayed and I did it! Jesus helped me be Brave! Please repost–I really want to know how it all turned out! Did she end up absolutely loving the week and thankful and proud she went??

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