When my daughter handed me her school progress report, it was filled with positive check marks — except for one, sitting all by itself.
“How am I doing, Mom?” she asked, her smudged glasses slipping down her nose, eyes searching mine. Her little finger landed on the words next to the lone check mark:
“Distracted in large groups.”
I already knew this. I’d known it long before her teacher put it on paper. My daughter has always been someone who notices the world — deeply, curiously, and with a heart wide open.
I pointed out all her wonderful marks, then gently read the teacher’s note aloud. She gave me a shy smile and admitted, “I do look around a lot.”
Before she could feel embarrassed or small, I knelt down so she could see the truth in my eyes. I wanted her to feel what I was about to say:
“Yes, sweetheart. You do look around a lot. You noticed Sam sitting alone with a skinned knee on the field trip and went to comfort him.
You noticed when Banjo’s nose was runny, and the vet said it was a good thing we brought him in.
You noticed our waitress was tired, and you told me we should leave her an extra tip.
You noticed Grandpa walking slower, so you waited for him.
You notice the view every time we cross the bridge to swimming practice.
And you know what? I never want you to stop noticing. Because that’s your gift — one the world desperately needs.”
Her face lit up with pride and peace. And in that moment, I understood something profound:
We are all waiting to be noticed — our pain, our joy, our efforts, our courage.
And the person who takes the time to notice?
That person is a rare and beautiful gift. ❤️
Credit;Anna R. Welliver