Every Friday night, as part of the blessing I give my daughter, I use one of my favorite quotes from Bob Dylan, "May you always know the truth and see the light surrounding you." I am particularly grateful this year to be able to light the candles with my daughter, reminded of our own little miracle. (Raphaela's face at the moment looks like she was hit by a truck...)
After two days of resting, I sent Raphaela back to school this morning, wondering if she would be able to stay out of danger; you can't tell a five year old who is feeling fine that she must be especially cautious with her every day activities. The fall happened as a natural consequence of children playing, and I would not want her to become fearful of experiencing a full life, as life requires an element of risk and uncertainty.
When I was preparing her lunch this morning, my gourmet chef looked at me and said, "You've made some good food choices there, but they're a little boring."
Once we found a shirt that I could pull over her head, we headed off to school, where I advised her teachers that (a) except for a gazillion stitches Raphaela is fine (b) I am the one still traumatized by the event and (c) I encouraged the teachers to allow Raphaela to have a full discussion about her wounds and her visit to the emergency room.
I was told later that after Raphaela spoke in front of her friends - "Mommy, I told them the whole truth!"- there ensued a class discussion where every child stood up and talked about their scars and moles and previous injuries. I couldn't have planned it better myself.
Post script: As I was walking home with Raphaela this afternoon we saw the mother of one of the boys who had front row seats to the face smack-down two days ago. She asked me, "How are YOU doing? My son gave me all the gory details. Was it really that bad?"
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