Compassion

I've never heard of a decent parent who had to sit down with her kid and say, "Son, have I ever told you about love? Well, love means ..." Kids figure it out on their own, you know? As long as they see it, they sort of make their own definitions of what love is and isn't.

Same goes for compassion. Before Rain was born, I thought a while a bout how to teach her to be compassionate. I'll have to show her, I figured, but how? When?

I talked to Tim about it (who, by the way, is compassionate by nature ... the rest of us have to work at it), and he agreed that we'd have to show hospitality, generosity, and concern often, especially in our home, to teach Rain.

Maybe our plan was a good one, but it certainly wasn't thorough. I figured Rain would start noticing things later on, and we'd just have to wait to see if any of our modeling "took." But children are far more clever than that.

Yesterday, Rain found her doll which I had packed away. Rain has only one doll, and it was given to her by a friend of ours. She said it was her doll as a child (she's a teen now), but that it looked so much like Rain, she had to give it to her. Well, yesterday the doll came out of the box it was packed in. Prior to yesterday, Rain had hardly paid the doll any attention. She played with if for a few minutes when she first received it, but that was about it.

Well, Rain picked up the doll and carried it--gently, mind you--to the guest bedroom. She put it on the bed, climbed on top as well, and sat next to it. There was a toy piano there, and Rain played, as if trying to entertain the doll. Afterwards, she carried it into her bedroom. Since then, Rain has carried, cuddled, and loved on the doll the way we have done to her many, many times.

Kids know. They are constantly watching and learning long before we're aware, and long after we've noticed. It's freaky.

As a final tidbit, the other day, my sister-in-law graciously offered to watch Rain all day (from 9 to 6--and she has a 3-year-old son and a daughter a month older than Rain, for crying out loud), so I could finish painting Rain's room. Tim picked Rain up, and afterwards gave me a full account of how she did.

The good news was Rain had behaved fantastically. She ate well, played well, and napped well. Awesome.

There was only one bit of interesting news to report. Around 4:00, when she normally takes her nap, Rain walked to the front door. She just stood there, staring at the door. She began to whimper, probably wondering where I was and who would put her down for a nap.

Well, her cousin Celeste walked up to Rain, patted her head, and sang, "Roo, roo, roo," which is the chant her mother cuddles her with when she's sad. They held each other for a bit, and Rain settled down.

Who's teaching who, I wonder.