First days

Like some of her peers, the first days of school were never easy for our daughter. Her little hands would wrap themselves around ours as soon as we lifted her from the car seat in the parking lot. On many days, she was still in tears when we left, although her teacher assured us that everything would be OK. We knew it would be, but our hearts were never quite convinced. I wanted her to be brave, in part, so I didn’t have to be. Over time, the drop-offs became more manageable, and she became more independent, walking to her classroom and saying good-bye. I learned that being brave would come in many forms for her — some readily apparent, like scampering up a climbing wall without fear, others revealing themselves like small gusts of wind, noticeable only if you were paying attention.