Give a child something with a hole on either end and he will attempt to look through it.
Give a child something that is even remotely L-shaped and she will point it at you and say, “Bang-bang!”
Give a child something round and he will roll it.
Give a child an environment littered with sticks and she will pick them up.
Give a child clothes with a pocket and he will fill them.
Give a child sand and she will get it in her shoe.
These are universal truths.
Sweet.
Give a child a voice and he will sing.
Give a child eyes and she will see.
Give a child hands and he will clasp.
Give a child feet and she will dance.
Give a child arms and he will climb.
Give a child legs and she will jump.
Give children a story and they will know.
Give children love and they will thrive.
That last one really sticks out, especially in the context of a speaker who I heard define thriving thusly:
“Success is meeting someone else’s expectations. Thriving is realizing the full potential of your own gifts.”
We tend to use those words interchangeably. And both goals are of merit. But I think, too often, we do not empower or position kids to thrive as defined here. Love is a great starting point for that.
The mayans knew of wheels, of circles that rolled. They never used such for conveyances.
No, they didn’t. But they used the hell out of them for children’s toys. (wheeled conveyances make a lot less sense when you don’t assume flat roads or steppes.)
The only one of those that Alice doesn’t do is the “bang bang” one. However, anything long and cylindrical is a firehose and can be used to “spray bad guys.”
Hannah does the “bang bang” one.
Older brothers.
Give a child an environment littered with sticks and she will pick them up.
Unless you first tell her it’s her job to pick up all the sticks and she has to do it right now.