Yesterday we went for a walk and happened to be at a roller skating rink. There were a lot of young skaters. They looked so graceful and beautiful that my daughter couldn’t take her eyes off them. She watched them skating and didn’t want to leave. She was looking at them for a long time, thinking about something, waiting…she really wanted to skate. But there were a lot of catches. She’s only 2 and a half years old, her skate size wasn’t even available (so we couldn’t rent a pair for her), I had some urgent things to do, and the rink was closing in 20 minutes. But she really wanted to go, and she asked me as if everything was at stake. And I said:
’Well, let’s try!’
We took the smallest roller skates (size 8), stuffed a sock into the toe of the skate, laced them tight, and went to the rink. Her small legs wouldn’t obey her: they sprawled and staggered. In general, they behaved as expected for their first time on roller skates. After 20 minutes, the rink was about to close. And, of course, my kid was disappointed. But she was even more impressed and inspired by the fact that we tried.
We found these magic words when our little son was about a year old. When my husband first said them, they seemed to have opened the eternal universe of experiments for us.
’Dad, let’s try to mix all the colors with our hands!’
Or: ’Mom, I want to help you make a soup.’ A hot soup, a sharp knife…of course, I find it easier to do everything myself, but she says: ’I want to help you! Let’s try it!’ Why not? After some practice, she now really helps me when making a soup. Her responsibilities are to cut the potatoes and grate the carrots. Yes, she does not do it as quickly as I do, and she’s not perfect in this. Yes, I stand next to her and say a hundred times to move her fingers away. The thing is, we tried. And it works.
The children, including the inner ones, simply rejoice in the moments of ’let’s try it!’ And it seems to be the essence of childhood: to try, to be curious, to take on whatever comes to mind without thinking of the consequences. But this skill is good, even for adults: it helps us to free ourselves from excessive responsibilities, look at each other, and decide on a new and breathtaking adventure. And even if we fail the first time, we can just laugh or shrug it off.