SJM - Where is the love?

When my daughter stuffed her brand-new Pegasus figurine into her backpack before school one morning, I knew it was a horrible mistake.
And I was right.

“I want to buy Julia a Pegasus like mine,” she said, as soon as we buckled up out seatbelts after work and school/daycare that evening.

“Why’s that, sweetie?”

“Because she wants one. And I promised her I would.”

This plan sounded shady. It smacked of something like buying love. And we all know how well that works out. (Think: Katie Holmes or really anyone who’s ever been associated with Tom Cruise.)

I ignored my daughter’s request at first. But it became impossible after three days of pressure from my relentless child.

“Sweetie,” I finally said. “Why do you think you need to buy Julia something?”

“Because I like her. And I want to make her happy.”

“Julia seems like a great little girl, who doesn’t care if you buy her something or not.”

“Oh,” she said. And then her face sunk to somewhere below the car’s chassis.

“Why don’t you make her something instead?”

That night, my daughter spent hours making a bracelet for Julia. As I spelled out “Queen Julia You are pretty,” my artist daughter sought out and painstakingly beaded each letter onto a piece of string.

She shoved it into her backpack the next morning, and then never mentioned it again.

But Julia’s mom did when I saw her at the recent field trip.

“I just wanted to tell you how special that bracelet is at our house.” I’d forgotten about it.

“Oh really.” I laughed. “I didn’t even think it would survive the trip to school.”

“It’s very special,” Julia’s mom said, a little offended at my irreverence. “We had a long talk about how special it is to make something for someone instead of buy it.”

My daughter and I had the same talk. And it felt good to be sharing that learning with another family. Especially since our intention was only to share the love.