The sweet girl seemed to grow three inches today, not in physical stature but in maturity. She decided to do sports camp, something she's been going back and forth about for weeks. She loves art, so the afternoon camp was a given, but athleticism is not her strong suit. She was a little nervous about the camp, but decided to give it a try. I was so proud of her when she got home and announced "Sports camp was a challenge...but it was fun!" Proud that she did it, proud that she recognized it was a challenge for herself, but that hard things are worth doing. I don't think I had that much awareness or perseverance when I was her age.
Even at six, almost seven, she still loves to carry her comforting "cloth" (an old soft piece of cloth she uses as a lovey). She mostly enjoys sleeping with it but has gotten in the habit of carrying it certain places (like church, for some reason). Mostly these days the only time she really seems to want it is when she's feeling tired or if she's feeling a bit nervous about something. I knew she was going to want to take it to camp, but I also knew there was no way it would fit in her shorts pocket or be something she could keep track of (she also tends to drop it and forget it once she gets comfortable in a situation). She seemed to feel extra vulnerable when I told her gently that I didn't think she could take it. Thankfully God gave me wisdom and I hit upon the idea of giving her a much smaller torn piece (of the same material) that I had saved in a drawer for just such a time as this. She tucked that little piece in her pocket and was just fine. She now calls it her special "baby cloth" for sports camp!
The evening found us out on the bench near our sycamores enjoying some quiet time. She grubbed around with a stick in the nearby rocks and the little patch of garden by the parking lot, and I finished reading George MacDonald's The Lost Princess and enjoyed listening to our urban birds (a noisy crow and some starlings that have a nest nearby). On our way back into the house, we were totally thrilled to discover not one, not two, but THREE precious baby rabbits scampering about and munching greens in the big tangled mess of grape vines at the end of the sidewalk. I don't think I'd ever seen rabbits this small up close! We dubbed them Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail ("but they're gathering grapes instead of blackberries," said my knowledgeable little Beatrix Potter fan) and decided Peter must be off somewhere in Mr. McGregor's garden!
The work on our building, by the way, is pretty much complete. Today they replaced the streetlamp that used to be right beneath our window. I was very saddened to see the old one go as it was old-fashioned and had a wonderfully Narnian feel, especially in falling snow. Now we just have an annoying, glaring light that makes weird shadows on the sidewalk.