My daughter handed me her school progress report. Although it displayed a steady stream of positive check marks, there was one check mark standing dejectedly alone from the rest.
“How am I doing, Mom?” my child asked with a level of maturity that did not match the small disheveled person gazing up at me with smudged eyeglasses that teetered on the tip of her nose. With her small finger, she pointed to her teacher’s neatly printed words next to the lone check mark.
It read: Distracted in large groups. But I already knew this. I knew this long before it was written on an official report card. Since she was a toddler, this child has offered astute observations of the world around her.
After pointing out all the positives on the progress report, I told her what was written. Upon hearing the news, she gave a tiny, uncertain smile and shyly admitted, “I do look around a lot.”
But before my child could feel one ounce of shame, one iota of failure, I came down on bended knee and looked her straight in the eye. I didn’t want her to just hear these words, I wanted her to feel them. This is what I said:
“Yes. You do look around a lot. You noticed Sam sitting off by himself with a skinned knee on the field trip, and you comforted him.
You noticed Banjo had a running nose, and the vet said it was a good thing we brought him in when we did.
You noticed our waitress was working really hard and suggested we leave an extra good tip.
You noticed Grandpa was walking slower than the rest of us so you waited for him.
You notice the beautiful view every time we cross the bridge to go to swim practice.
And you know what? I don’t ever want you to stop noticing because that is your gift. It is your gift that you give to the world.”
As I watched my daughter beam with the glow of acceptance, I realized her approach to life had the power to change the world.
You see, we are all just waiting for someone to notice—notice our pain, notice our scars, notice our fear, notice our joy, notice our triumphs, notice our courage.
And the one who notices is a rare and beautiful gift.
Let us all be Noticers today.
© Rachel Macy Stafford 2011
