My daughter handed me her school progress report the other day. It was filled with positive check marks—except for one, standing all alone.
“How am I doing, Mom?” she asked, peering up at me with her smudged glasses slipping down her nose. With a small finger, she pointed to the lone note her teacher had written:
“Distracted in large groups.”
But I already knew this. Long before it was written on a report, I knew that my daughter noticed things—things that others often missed.
After praising her for all the positives, I gently told her what it said. She gave a shy smile and admitted, “I do look around a lot.”
Before she could feel even a hint of shame, I knelt down, looked her in the eyes, and said:
“Yes. You do look around a lot. And because of that, you noticed Sam sitting alone with a skinned knee and comforted him.
You noticed Banjo’s runny nose, and the vet said it was good we brought him in.
You noticed our waitress working hard and suggested we leave her an extra tip.
You noticed Grandpa walking slower than the rest of us, so you waited for him.
You notice the view every time we cross the bridge to swim practice.
And you know what? I never want you to stop noticing. Because noticing is your gift—and it’s one the world desperately needs.”
Her face lit up with acceptance, and I realized: her way of seeing the world could change it.
Because truthfully, aren’t we all just waiting for someone to notice?
Our pain. Our joy. Our scars. Our triumphs. Our courage.
The one who notices is rare. The one who notices is a gift.
~Rachel Macy Stafford, author of “Hands Free Life.”
Credit;Anna R. Welliver
