leslieism

Recently my daughter received an award at school for her integrity.  I mentioned to her teacher how blessed I am…having a nine year-old, recognized for her integrity.  Her teacher exclaimed that my daughter amazes her daily because of her compassion and empathy for others.  But this award,she tells me, involves a couple of specific incidents.  The first situation involved her confronting her classmates, her peers, during a social studies discussion.  She talked to them about a game that was being played at recess, a game making fun of a girl with slight autism. She said it was bullying and not the right way to treat someone, especially someone that may be a little different.  The teacher told me that my daughter did not approach it in a tattle telling type of way, but in fact, brought about a productive group discussion.  (I’m beaming with pride at this point)

Situation number two:  The kids write little narratives about their topic of choice and then are given the opportunity to read aloud.  The teacher tells me that my daughter wrote a short autobiography…centered around “the divorce”.  (Ugh. My gut hurt for a second) Then she read it to the class.  (Oh dear, I gasped)

Her teacher looks like she could be getting a tad emotional as she continues on…she tells me that the entire class starting clapping when she finished reading.  She tells me that the class has never clapped after a narrative reading. THEN, she says, six children’s hands shot up…each one wanted to share their own divorce/broken family stories. (I’ve got chills and tears in my eyes at this point) My daughter has been insisting that she is the only one in her class with divorced parents…I’m sure the other kids felt the same. The last little boy that shared, started crying as he talked about the fighting going on at home.  My child started a support group all because she had the courage to share her story…her feelings.

I know right.  I’m pretty much raising Jesus. Kind of a massive responsibility…raising a holy child. Especially since becoming a teenager is inevitable. Yeah, wait till Jesus starts her period. If she is anything like her mother, she is going to be one weepy, irritable, lil’ bitch. So I am working diligently on her training. Whenever she gives me any attitude, especially about chores, I wave my wrist (donning my W.W.J.D. bracelet)in front of her face…chanting, what.would.Jesus.do. She usually freaks out and boo hoos about the pressure of being Jesus n’ all. At this point, we pray.

Alright, enough of the Jesus biz. I’m working on a lengthy, serious-time blog and I wanted to give you something light and amusing beforehand. I also wanted to share this story(minus Jesus) from mountain tops. My daughter is the biggest blessing in my life and I don’t think there are words in the human language to describe how much I love her. So I thank God, daily, for giving me my very own Baby J.