Faith of a child

As I sit here at the computer Jane sits on the bed nearby (safely blockaded in by pillows, ever since that little science experiment where she compared apples to little girls in their gravitational properties) and happily plays with the empty box in which the new office phone came. After Michael installed it, we tossed the box on the bed to remind us to fill out the warranty/product registration stuff, and Jane has had fun playing with it ever since. It's amazing to see the simplicity of the things that keep her happy: simple games, simple sounds, simple objects. Aside from the obvious hugely demanding physical needs for which she relies on us to keep alive, she is surprisingly contented and unspoiled. And within reason, I'd like to keep it that way.

I've given presents to greedy little kids before, and it's just so demoralising when the effort goes unappreciated because the little tots had their sights set on something much grander. Whatever. My brothers may jolly well be underprivileged, but it's so FUN to see their eyes light up with delight over the simplest things. Michael pretends to be horrified that, at current standing, my Christmas present to Joseph consists of a dead butterfly and a turkey wishbone. But he LIKES that stuff! And it makes him happy. And he really doesn't need any junk. And it's the thought that counts.

What I really want is for my kids to be able to appreciate the finer things in life (to actually develop a taste for champagne would be nice) without coming to expect that such things are owed to them. I want them to be delighted every time something nice happens their way, and perfectly content when it doesn't. There now.