It's Monday morning, Molly's return to school after a two-week break, and the four of us are getting ready for the day.
She doesn't respond as I announce that it is time for her to leave for school, but Molly often doesn't hear people when she's pursuing an interest. So, I am not surprised when I find her leaning against the princess sofa (our antique chaise longue) as she leafs through a book.
When I see its title, I cautiously ask if she intends to take the book to school.
-- Yes, I think so. For Victoria.
Victoria is a classmate who, it appears, is somewhat fickle in designating BFF status. Something tells me that I lack some critical information about Molly's plans for the day, but she really must leave now.
-- Okay, darling. Let's pack it up, then.
-- I'm going to give it to her at recess and have her read it. Then, she'll know how to behave.
I freeze. My mind races this way and that, searching frantically for a way to dissuade her from the sweet-but-misguided plan while nevertheless lauding this bold attempt to connect with a friend.
-- Well, what if you were to ask Victoria to read the book with you? Then, Victoria could learn about her mistakes without ever being aware of your [intended act of] kindness.
She folds the book under her little arm, furrows her brows, and sets about the task of going to school -- without disclosing her intentions.
I am encouraged by the fact that Molly reaches for books (just as Devyn does) in matters of conflict.
How To Be A Friend: A Guide to Making Friends and Keeping Them (Laurie Krasny Brown/Marc Brown)