| “The great gift of human beings is that we have the power of empathy.” |
Meryl Streep
The drawback of those great stainless-steel water-bottles for kids is the weight. Today Fig was enjoying a nice sip of H2O in the kitchen, when she dropped her water-bottle on her middle toe. The stainless=steel edge cut through skin, bloodied her toe, and inspired a purplish bruise at the base of her nail. The jury’s out as to whether she’ll lose the toe-nail altogether. Poor Fig screamed ‘Toe-Toe,” for a good ten minutes. I tried running the toe under cool water but Fig wouldn’t stand for it. I felt helpless. Cradling her in my arms seemed to soothe her somewhat, but she kept reaching for her toe. “I know it hurts, Honey,” were about the most comforting words I could come up with, and they weren’t helping.
After the ten minutes of solid crying, Fig alternated between an exhausted state of calm and heart-wrenching tears for another twenty minutes. What astonished me most during Fig’s traumatic half-hour was Pip’s behaviour. Oftentimes, when Fig needs my attention, Pip decides to vie for it too. Not this time. Pip realized that Fig was truly in pain.
When Fig dropped the bottle, Pip was in the living room reading, so she didn’t know how serious things were. She heard Fig crying, but she was ready for a change of outfit, so she came walking into the kitchen with shorts and a t-shirt saying, “I’m hot Mama, can you help me change?”
I told her that I couldn’t help her at the moment because of Fig’s accident. She examined Fig’s toe. “Oh, Fig, ” she began, “that blood is starting to dry up! Good for you!” She gave Fig an enthusiastic two thumbs-up. Fig was oblivious to Pip’s efforts and continued to wail, “Toe! Toe!”
Pip tried another tactic. “Fig, you know, when I got this scrape on my knee, it really hurt.” Pip put a hand on my shoulder to help her balance so that she could lift her knee right up to Fig’s face.
Fig was paying attention to Pip now, but she was still crying. I looked at Pip. “Sweetie, she’s still in a lot of pain.” At this point, Pip did the most marvelous thing; she gently rubbed my shoulder. Do many three-year-olds do that sort of thing? Maybe they do. It just seemed like a very mature gesture, and it felt really nice.
So there we were, Pip and I, looking down into the tear-stained face of sweet Fig. She had stopped crying, but her quivering lower lip indicated that she might launch into another bout of tears at any second. “Maybe Fig would like a little rub on the shoulder too, Pip.” Pip started with Fig’s shoulder, then she caressed the side of Fig’s face and finally patted her head. Fig eyed her sister suspiciously at first, then a smile crept across her face.
“Look at that Pip, you’re making her smile!”
Both girls were now smiling at each other. It was a sweet little moment in time. And it got sweeter.
“Mama, isn’t it funny that Fig was saying, toe-toe, and I have a dog named, Toto?” Ah, empathy and a sense of humour to boot.
