As I may have mentioned, we joined the
Y
M
C
A
What did Mallory do when we came home from swimming the first time? Exactly the kind of thing Mallory loves to do: She made a card. Mallory is forever making cards for people -- teachers, friends, families; she also frequently puts together "gift bags" of things that she "doesn't want anymore anyway, so I don't mind if this person has it instead!" We have had to have talks about when it's appropriate to give someone a gift, and what an appropriate gift is. She still doesn't quite get it when I tell her that she cannot, in fact, give a bag of discarded stuffed animals and some lip gloss to a girl she may have played with one time on the playground. "It's never wrong to give someone a present!" she'll say, and I can't think of a way to explain that, in fact, not every gift is received in the spirit that it's intended. I love that she's so generous, I don't want to squash that out of her, but I want to teach her boundaries too.
Anyway, this card was for, as she put it, "Staff Members of Y." She outlined, cut out, and decorated each of the four letters. The "Y" was designed to look like the climbing wall; the "M" had a girl swimming between its lines; the C was a yoga studio, and the bar of the "A" was a soccer field. It was a very cool card, actually.
She brought it to the Y when we went back on Saturday and presented it to the "staff member" who hands out locker rooms keys. The woman, bless her, must be around children a lot, because she made much of the card and told Mallory how much she loved it. And when we walked by the desk again, on our way out, I nudged Mallory and pointed at the main bulletin board behind the desk. There was her card, in all its glory, right where everyone could see it. Mallory beamed. This gift, at least, was just right.
Y
M
C
A
What did Mallory do when we came home from swimming the first time? Exactly the kind of thing Mallory loves to do: She made a card. Mallory is forever making cards for people -- teachers, friends, families; she also frequently puts together "gift bags" of things that she "doesn't want anymore anyway, so I don't mind if this person has it instead!" We have had to have talks about when it's appropriate to give someone a gift, and what an appropriate gift is. She still doesn't quite get it when I tell her that she cannot, in fact, give a bag of discarded stuffed animals and some lip gloss to a girl she may have played with one time on the playground. "It's never wrong to give someone a present!" she'll say, and I can't think of a way to explain that, in fact, not every gift is received in the spirit that it's intended. I love that she's so generous, I don't want to squash that out of her, but I want to teach her boundaries too.
Anyway, this card was for, as she put it, "Staff Members of Y." She outlined, cut out, and decorated each of the four letters. The "Y" was designed to look like the climbing wall; the "M" had a girl swimming between its lines; the C was a yoga studio, and the bar of the "A" was a soccer field. It was a very cool card, actually.
She brought it to the Y when we went back on Saturday and presented it to the "staff member" who hands out locker rooms keys. The woman, bless her, must be around children a lot, because she made much of the card and told Mallory how much she loved it. And when we walked by the desk again, on our way out, I nudged Mallory and pointed at the main bulletin board behind the desk. There was her card, in all its glory, right where everyone could see it. Mallory beamed. This gift, at least, was just right.
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