A spoon and a bowl of feelings!

A spoon...

The other day I was on the playground with a two year old and a spoon.  This child continually wanted to stir the spoon in other children's faces.  The other children tried many things to avoid this facial spoon stirring: they ran away, they screamed “No,” they pushed the child with the spoon out of the way many times…

I tried redirecting, “Let's use the spoon to....” I tried helping the two year old notice how the other children were reacting.  I tried all of my tricks and when nothing worked, I said the spoon needed a rest and I put it away in my pocket.  I suggested we find something else to play with on the playground. 

As a result the two year old threw himself onto the ground and began to cry.  A 3 year old child named Eli noticed this from a neighboring playground and he came over to check on this student.  He didn't know the student or anything about him.  

"What happened?" Eli asked me as he pointed at the two year old crying on the ground. I said, "He is sad and he is looking for something to play with."  As I said this the two year old child stood up and looked at Eli as if to say, “so how can you help me?”

Eli looked around and brought the two year old a bike, but he shook his head no.  Eli brought him another bike…still no.  Then he brought a ball.  The two year old didn't say yes, but he didn't say no!  Eli recognized he had potential here.  He threw the ball over the fence to the younger child.  They began to play a game throwing the ball back and forth to each other.  The spoon was forgotten, a new friendship was formed, and in the blink of an eye so many important lessons revealed themselves to me about children and the way they observe, notice, and interact in the world. 

Why did Eli have so much compassion for a child he didn't know? The crying of the child was immediately something to be addressed and he had a desire - and maybe he even felt a responsibility - to help this child.  It took him 4-6 times before the child crying agreed to play.  He wanted to help this child he didn't know, feel better.  As he saw the child move from sadness to happiness his shoulders inflated, and his body puffed up in pride and accomplishment.  "He's better," he said to me and he smiled.  How does Eli feel about sadness in life? Can he comfortably sit in it? Does he recognize the compassion and empathy he exhibited? Why did he care, when so many other children ran around paying little attention to the sad 2 year old?  

I pondered my role in this situation.  Do I draw attention to any of this? Which parts? Do they need the noticing of an adult or are they noticing themselves the greatness of the moment?

Eli helped this child move through his sadness.  He found a soultion to help him feel better.  He felt proud of this accomplishment.  He enjoyed playing with the child.

The other child moved through his sad feelings.  He found a way to interact with children on the playground in an acceptable social interaction. He made a new friend! He moved through acceptance of the word "no," when I removed the spoon.  Sometimes no needs to be said, it is ok to say no.  My goal is to say it when I mean it and when I need to say it.  I don't want to overuse the word and limit children's creativity and curiosity.  At the same time, we do need to have limits and boundaries, and when we don't, children miss a valuable learning opportunity.  

The ball playing continued until the two year old wandered off.  Eli shrugged his shoulders and walked away to find another friend to play with or another game to play, and our day continued.

I wonder how much to revisit experiences with children, and here is the funny part: later when I saw the two year old he looked at me and said, "Spoon."  He opened the door for reflection. I said, "You loved the spoon on the playground and I put it away to keep it out of children's faces." He said, "Yeah."  I said, "Hmmmm, I wonder how we can play with that spoon next time?”  And I will ponder this.  Maybe next time I can take a few bowls and spoons onto the playground to find a way to use the spoon differently, or not.  I will wonder about this as I think about the behavior and the child and what he or she needs. These interactions are opportunities to learn, to grow, to reflect, for both the children and for me!

How many moments such as these occur each day? Do we see the beauty in these moments? Do we recognize the value in these moments? Children are awesome!