leaf collection

Jemma loves collecting leaves. And sticks and rocks, too - but right now her favorite thing to bring home is leaves. When we're walking she'll stop every four or five steps to pick one up off the sidewalk. Sometimes she'll even pick one out of the gutter and hand it to me. My coat pockets are stuffed with leaves. So is my purse. But I draw the line at the ones that are wet or rotting. She tries to give them to me anyway...

I haven't been able to figure out what makes some of them special to her. She'll go for the brightly colored ones, of course - but other times she'll hand me ones that are dull and tattered and falling apart. But she firmly believes that every one of them is special. And she watches to make sure I put them away carefully.

One afternoon we were making our way home from school by way of the park. We were walking with a few of the kids from her class, and one of the girls noticed that Jemma was collecting leaves, and started making fun of her. I explained to the girl that Jemma really likes leaves - and that I do, too - and that we were planning on doing a leaf project together. (At which point I started a mental list of cool leaf projects.) This seemed to make Jem more comfortable, and the girl stopped taunting her.

But a few moments later Jemma was calling me urgently. I went over to where the girls were playing, and the other girl was holding a beautiful leaf. "Maybe they're collecting leaves together now," I thought. No such luck...

"I was about to pick up that leaf and she grabbed it." Jemma told me.

"Well, let's find you another leaf." I suggested...

"No" Jemma said desperately, her eyes filling with tears. "That one's mine - and I need it." Distraction wasn't going to work this time... Apparently this was the perfect leaf.

The other little girl smiled smugly.

I'm pretty good at reasoning with kids. So I thought I'd give it a try. I went over and squatted down beside her.

"I wonder if you could give that leaf to Jemma, since it seems very important to her, and since you don't really care about leaves that much..." I started. But as I was speaking the girl held the leaf up, and slowly ripped it apart - her eyes on Jemma the whole time.

I watched Jemma's face as her expression changed from disbelief to horror to anguish. She let out a heartbroken cry. It broke my heart a little, too. It was startling to see such a perfect representation of cruelty and disregard played out by 4-year-olds. It was the kind of thing you usually only see in movies...

There was nothing to do but put my arms around my daughter.

"It's okay," I said. "There are so many other leaves. I'm sure we'll find an even better one."

And then, as unexpectedly as the sun breaking through during a rainstorm, one of the other kids appeared holding another leaf - different from the first one, but equally beautiful. She handed it to Jemma, saying, "Here's one for your collection." And, with that small kindness, everything was better. And we were on our way again.