Hearing what children say

Today at our children's preschool, the 3-5 year-old's had a little Christmas presentation. It was our 3-year old Stella's first. She missed some rehearsals, and so she wasn't really singing any of the eight partial songs they had lined up. Either she knew the words to sing and did not want to, or she just did not know them at all. It's hard to tell with that child sometimes.

I will explain why I say so, with one example also from today.

After their little concert, we waited for the special guest to arrive. Boy, their Santa Claus was awesome! His suit was luxuriously beautiful I truly wanted to touch it. His beard was real, his belly seemed real, his glasses were on point, and his ho-ho-ho was theatrically bonafide. Each of the children got to sit on Santa's lap, receive "his present," and tell him what they wanted for Christmas.

We let Stella have her moment with him, and I so I don't believe my husband or mom listened to what she told him. In the car ride back to the preschool, we asked her, "Stella, what did you ask Santa for Christmas?" At first she said, "Uhm a pink...!"

And then I prodded again, "Did you tell Santa something else?" She says, "I asked him for food for us." We laughed, and my husband said, "We have ridiculous amounts of food at home." Very true. Reason to why I'm currently on diet mode.

Tonight at bed time, I told her a story as part of their routine. I had promised Hansel and Gretel. This will be her first repeat of this tale, and I know there will be more requests for it. For now, I stick to the simplified versions of fairy tales. Even though I don't agree on saying, "and they lived happily ever after," I finish them that anyway. Just to get her feet wet in the world of the classics.

In this Hansel and Gretel version, their Mama forces their Dad to scheme on taking the children out for a walk in the forest, and leaving them to get lost. Why? Because they barely have any food to eat. The Mama did not want to starve, so her solution was to get rid of Hansel and Gretel. Despite this simplistic version with the happy ending, I redeem the story by making sure to emphasize how clever and smart Hansel and Gretel were. They outsmarted the witch, Gretel pushed her into the oven at the most opportune moment. And then they found a treasure chest in the witch's home.

They take this back to their Papa, who was so happy to see them and asked for their forgiveness. Conveniently, the Mama had fallen ill and died before they came back home. I told Stella that they shared the treasures with their Papa, and because of that, they were able to keep their home and never went hungry again.

As I finish the story in the dark, I could still see her eyes. Very. Wide. Awake. Naturally, she begs for another story: Rapunzel.

My story of Rapunzel also has the contrived happy ending. The setup in the beginning is what matters though. So Rapunzel was in her Mama's tummy, waiting to be born. But her parents were so poor. Too poor, that they only had a few potatoes left to eat. Food was scarce. The husband decides to steal from the vegetable garden next door, knowing that who lived there was a mean old witch. 

The witch catches them. As she finds out that the woman was with child, she promised to take the baby away when it was born. Fast forward to Rapunzel growing up lonely, and locked up in the tower. To finally being with her prince against all odds.

As I reflected upon today, I realized why Stella asked Santa for food. It obviously was not because we are starving. It was because she did not want her, or her family to starve.

How do I know this? It's also because every time I tell her that I feel unwell, she asks, "So will I get a stepmother now?" Where does she get that? Cinderella. Snow White. The stories we can universally credit for the bad stepmother archetype. Right. I've done some damage to my child.

But, I'm glad she gets it. She understands that starvation causes conflict. In her own little way, she understands that losing a parent means she just might get a step-parent, and that may cause complications and hardship in her life. 

Closing 2018, while living between the bubbles of the San Francisco Bay, and the Greater Sacramento Areas (both of which are comparatively affluent), I once again realize how much I have to be thankful for. Food to eat. A beautiful family. A biological mother. And a stepmother, albeit the kindest one you can ever, ever have.

Nary any life-threatening conflicts. Some hardships, sure. The middle class kind. Of the kind in a first-world country: preschool costs, transportation costs, utility costs. Our poverty in terms of time. We're too busy making a living.

But many other parts of the world could only wish that they had our set of problems. Instead of their life-threatening hardships. The scarcity, the starvation that kills people, and makes the few left behind go mad, and kill some more people.

If I don't learn to see the world the way my children do, then I think that negates the reason why God let me have them. If one day we could all magically see things from a child's point of view, we just might eradicate hunger, poverty, and other tangible hardships. With a sense of urgency. Just like that. Next time a child talks, try to really listen.