I'm Lindsay Ferrier, a Nashville writer with a passion for family travel, exploring Tennessee, and raising kids without losing my mind in the process. This is where I share my discoveries, along with occasional deep thoughts, pop culture tangents and a sprinkling of snark. Want to get in touch? Use the CONTACT form at the top of the page.
December 16, 2008
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A few days ago, Punky, Bruiser and I read a wonderful book called A Wish to Be a Christmas Tree.
It’s all about a fir that’s grown too tall at the tree farm to ever be chosen by a family for Christmas. To cheer him up, his forest friends decorate him with icicles and berries and brightly colored birds while he’s sleeping. On Christmas morning, he awakens, fully decorated, and his friends tell him how much he means to them, providing shelter for them from the cold weather. His friends realize that they’ve never told him of their feelings for him until now, and they resolve to decorate him every Christmas to show him just how they feel.
Afterward, I decided it was a wonderful opportunity for Punky to choose a few friends, draw them a picture, and tell them how much she liked them and why.
“Sometimes, we forget to let our friends and family members know how much they mean to us,” I said. “It’s important to show the ones we love from time to time that we care about them.”
She thought for a moment, chose two friends, carefully drew their pictures, and dictated some very sweet things for me to write to her friends beneath the pictures. I put the pictures in envelopes and delivered them to the girls’ mailboxes the next day. I was so proud of Punky for her eagerness to make her friends feel special, and was glad this book had given me an opportunity to reinforce the lesson. I fairly glowed inside thinking that Punky’s little pictures and words might give her friends a smile when they received them.
Yesterday, Punky and I ran into one of the girls. Punky and her little friend talked for a few minutes, and then I asked the girl if she had gotten her picture from Punky. She stared at me.
“No,” she said.
“You didn’t get a letter in your mailbox?” I asked. “Or a picture that Punky drew for you with a special message on it.”
She thought for a moment. “Nope,” she said, shaking her head.
“Oh,” I said flatly, guessing that Punky’s picture had made it from the mailbox straight to the girls’ parents’ “circular file.”
So much for Goodwill to Men.
This post originally appeared on Parents.com.
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