Today I saw you build a fort, a canopy hung crookedly right over your bed. You said there would be a party and I could come. But just seeing you I could have guessed. You were dressed up as a knight, the armor so shiny. And trailing right behind you I saw your sister, small face smiling wide, the wings on her fairy dress sparkly and pink.
And even though you said there would be magic at this party, and games of course, it wasn’t even the most magical thing you did today.
See, I was watching you at tumbling class and saw you hold her hand, so small in yours. After that I saw you give her the smallest little nudge when she needed help in climbing high. And after class you brimmed with glee and it wasn’t even over what you had done but that your sister had done so well.
Later, at the park, playing nicely and running fast, you took a moment just to say, “hey mom, guess what, she slid down by herself.” You were the proudest little man I’d ever seen because your sister slid on the biggest slide there, and did it by herself.
I’ve never been more proud of you than when I saw how proud you could be of your little sister, today.