The first time she asked me to wear the necklace to work, I hesitated. I'd watched her tiny hands concentrate for an hour on stringing those plastic beads patiently onto a piece of white yarn, grimacing each time one fell yet diligently persevering. My heart smiled when she announced at the end, "I made this for you, Mommy!"
Indeed, it was a beautiful work of art for a 3-year-old, just not quite the type of thing that went well with my much more "professional" work clothes. But the sad look on her face as my mind raced on how to tell her it was really better to save it for an "at home only necklace" had me saying, "of course I'll wear it!" before I knew it.
I placed the necklace on the passenger's seat before getting out of my car at the office. "Don't forget to put that back on when you get home!" I told myself.
Entering the house after work, I heard the eager pitter-patter of little footsteps running to greet me. In an instant, though, her sad eyes told me that I hadn't remembered to put it back on, and I'd been caught. I could hear her heart sinking as she sadly asked the questions. "Didn't you wear my necklace to work, Mommy? Where is it?"
My heart sank right along with hers. Afraid to look silly at the office, I'd made a promise that I never intended to keep. And in the process, I'd broken her heart. I made myself a new promise right then and there that looking silly didn't matter nearly as much as that beautiful little face, and the pride I knew her heart would feel when I could, with a clear conscience, tell her that yes, I wore her necklace to work, all day long.
My made-with-love-by-Rachel necklace collection is up to at least 1/2 dozen, with several bracelets, as well. I have jewelry made of macaroni, cut up straws, beads, lace, ribbons and plastic trim. She knows that the bead necklace matches the purple shirt, the straw necklace matches the red shirt, and the macaroni goes with most anything. When she sees me wearing one of those tops, she asks me to put on a necklace. I do it, every single time, and I wear it all day long.
I used to be one of those people who are now giving me odd glances, perhaps chuckling a bit, or asking why I'm wearing pasta around my neck. But then there are the other mothers in my office, who give me a smile and a nod, and who know exactly why I've got this on and why "beautiful and loving" and not "silly and inappropriate" is the proper way to describe my accessories.
I'm sure I'll continue to promise that "someday" we'll go to see the pyramids, even though I'm not sure if I mean it. I'll still tell her we're out of M&Ms when I think she's had enough, rather than explain why she just can't have any more. And yes, Rachel, there is a Tooth Fairy and an Easter Bunny and Dumbo can really fly.
But the necklaces? Such a small request to accommodate yet such an important promise to keep. Certainly not worth fibbing about, and I'll never, ever do it again.
Next time you see a parent with a silly hat or a necklace made of straws or Nemo stickers all over their shirt, don't laugh. Instead, smile and nod, and know that's a promise kept to a very proud child. Myself, I can't think of any accessory more beautiful than a child's smile, can you?
Indeed, it was a beautiful work of art for a 3-year-old, just not quite the type of thing that went well with my much more "professional" work clothes. But the sad look on her face as my mind raced on how to tell her it was really better to save it for an "at home only necklace" had me saying, "of course I'll wear it!" before I knew it.
I placed the necklace on the passenger's seat before getting out of my car at the office. "Don't forget to put that back on when you get home!" I told myself.
Entering the house after work, I heard the eager pitter-patter of little footsteps running to greet me. In an instant, though, her sad eyes told me that I hadn't remembered to put it back on, and I'd been caught. I could hear her heart sinking as she sadly asked the questions. "Didn't you wear my necklace to work, Mommy? Where is it?"
My heart sank right along with hers. Afraid to look silly at the office, I'd made a promise that I never intended to keep. And in the process, I'd broken her heart. I made myself a new promise right then and there that looking silly didn't matter nearly as much as that beautiful little face, and the pride I knew her heart would feel when I could, with a clear conscience, tell her that yes, I wore her necklace to work, all day long.
My made-with-love-by-Rachel necklace collection is up to at least 1/2 dozen, with several bracelets, as well. I have jewelry made of macaroni, cut up straws, beads, lace, ribbons and plastic trim. She knows that the bead necklace matches the purple shirt, the straw necklace matches the red shirt, and the macaroni goes with most anything. When she sees me wearing one of those tops, she asks me to put on a necklace. I do it, every single time, and I wear it all day long.
I used to be one of those people who are now giving me odd glances, perhaps chuckling a bit, or asking why I'm wearing pasta around my neck. But then there are the other mothers in my office, who give me a smile and a nod, and who know exactly why I've got this on and why "beautiful and loving" and not "silly and inappropriate" is the proper way to describe my accessories.
I'm sure I'll continue to promise that "someday" we'll go to see the pyramids, even though I'm not sure if I mean it. I'll still tell her we're out of M&Ms when I think she's had enough, rather than explain why she just can't have any more. And yes, Rachel, there is a Tooth Fairy and an Easter Bunny and Dumbo can really fly.
But the necklaces? Such a small request to accommodate yet such an important promise to keep. Certainly not worth fibbing about, and I'll never, ever do it again.
Next time you see a parent with a silly hat or a necklace made of straws or Nemo stickers all over their shirt, don't laugh. Instead, smile and nod, and know that's a promise kept to a very proud child. Myself, I can't think of any accessory more beautiful than a child's smile, can you?
