The Dance

I am not a perfect parent. I’ve made many mistakes, but due to the amazing resilience of children my daughters seem no worse for the wear. And every once in a while something wonderful will happen, like finding a rose blooming beneath a blanket of snow, that makes the trials and tribulations of parenthood all worthwhile.

As she's gotten older, my pre-teen daughter has begun navigating that age-old peer group dance where one small misstep and the consequences can be devastating. The most recent disruption in this choreographed production involved a young girl my daughter has known for 6 years. After an incredibly rocky beginning, the girls made peace and developed a genuine bond. My daughter, even at that tender age, stood by her friend as best she could through her parents’ volatile divorce and ensuing drama. Things have not been easy for this little girl and, due to this, she has not always made it easy for my daughter to be her friend.

Recently, I thought the situation had reached the point of no return. This little girl lashed out and accused my daughter of carrying out an act completely uncharacteristic of her… an act of pure malice. My daughter was angry and incredibly hurt. She felt that anyone who truly knew her would know that she was incapable of carrying out such an act. The armed camps lasted for weeks and both girls were miserable, but equally stubborn in their positions.

A few days ago it appeared that a truce had been reached as the two girls chatted happily on the phone. When they hung up I quipped, “So she decided to forgive you?” And then my 12 year old daughter turned toward me, a solemn expression on her beautiful face, “Actually Mom, I‘ve been thinking about how she brags an awful lot, and how sometimes she’ll exaggerate to make herself sound cool to the other kids… and then I started thinking about how lucky I am to have my family. I know I can always depend on you and Dad…I can trust you. And then I thought about how her dad says really mean things to her and how she can’t trust him, and how she has to deal with having to move so much…She didn’t decide to forgive me Mom, I decided to forgive her.”

It’s in moments like those that I close my eyes in gratitude, thankful for the knowledge that although I’m not a perfect parent, I must’ve gotten at least a few things right.









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