Walking to the school bus is more than a walk

  • Walking to the school bus is more than a walk

    Walking to the school bus is more than a walk

    Kate walking to the busAt least once a week, Kate and I walk to the school bus stop. It’s about 5 minutes from our house and now that the weather is starting to cool, we like making the walk. Plus, I love the early morning chats with my precious girl.


    This morning, I was telling her about an arts-related event in downtown Charleston on Sunday I thought she might like to attend. She asks, “Can we go with someone?”


    I teasingly reply, “What, you don’t want to go with your ol’ mom and dad?”


    She does, but … it’s fun to take a friend.


    I tell her someday she’ll be driving off with her friends and won’t want to go anywhere with us.


    “Well,” she says, “I will be moving to New York.”


    I ask, “Can we come visit?”


    Kate says, “Sure.”


    I ask, “Will you call me every day?”


    “No,” she says. “I’ll be busy with all my jobs.”


    At least she’s honest.


    At age 6, she has mapped out plans to move to New York where she’ll be running both her own art gallery and a zoo/farm of exotic animals. Granted, she hasn’t been to New York, but many famous artists live there, so seems like a good idea. And why not?


    She’s shared her plans with some friends at school and already has two friends willing to move to New York with her and work at her zoo. She’ll be the leader, she says, and give them jobs to do.


    Of course she shares all of this in a very matter-of-fact tone with complete confidence in her plans.


    I love it.


    I love her spirit, independence and self-confidence.


    Sweet girl, don’t ever lose that.


    I don’t want her to reach middle school only to see her confidence wane as is the case with so many young girls. It is my life’s mission to keep her believing in herself, her abilities and the fact that she can do absolutely anything she wants in life.


    And in the meantime, I’ll take advantage of the fact she still holds my hand as we walk to bus, sharing her life’s plans. I tuck these conversations away so in 20 years I can remember a darling little girl who is in the process of fulfilling all her dreams …. and, I hope, has time to call me at least once a week.

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