Maia makes some friends
Last night, we went to a dinner to celebrate the wedding of Henry's nephew--Henry was Kristina's father and this nephew was the son of Henry's brother.
There were three tables of relatives. The bride and groom and some close friends and relatives sat at the middle one; the children of the older of Henry's biological daughters sat at the one on the far side of the table of honor.
Our table included an old friend of the family and her son. The son must be in his forties now. There's something wrong with him. His head is a a little pinched at the temples, there are scars on his skull, and it's clear he's not the brightest guy in the world. He usually wears a dour expression that's not really a sign of what's going on inside, more one of what he's missing emotionally owing to whatever his physical problem may be.
At the start of the dinner, Maia was reluctant to climb into her high chair. Then she held onto my arm and hid her head behind it. She does that when she's frightened, so I knew something was bothering her.
"I don't like that man," she said. "He's mean."
"Mean" is a generic term for her--it means somebody who looks angry or unfriendly or scary.
"He's not a mean man, Maia. He just has some problems. He was born that way. But he's not scary."
Maia knows the concept of "born that way" from Finding Nemo and her own problem. But I wasn't persuasive. She remained afraid to look at him. Even when she finally did sit up, some ten minutes or so into the meal, she avoided looking at him. She would snatch a look at him and then look away, afraid that he'd catch her in the act.
As the dinner wore on, Maia loosened up and became friends with the "Popos" at our table.
"Popo" means mother's mother. It's the term Maia uses for any Asian woman of a certain age.
She really had fun with them, as you may surmise from the pics.
And they enjoyed her enormously. Nothing warms an older Chinese lady's heart like a little girl or boy who enjoys their company.
Finally, at the end of the meal, she sat down next to the man who had frightened her. She did that all on her own. It isn't something I encouraged or would have encouraged. It was just something that she did spontaneously.
Maybe because he had been watching her playing with the Popos, he soon picked up a napkin, made a cone out of it, and put it on Maia's head.
She smiled at him. And then she did the neatest thing.
She put the napkin cone on the man's head. I don't think I've ever seen him so animated and happy. He didn't frighten her anymore.
Sometimes she will do something that just astonishes me.
John, Thursday, July 6, 2006
There were three tables of relatives. The bride and groom and some close friends and relatives sat at the middle one; the children of the older of Henry's biological daughters sat at the one on the far side of the table of honor.
Our table included an old friend of the family and her son. The son must be in his forties now. There's something wrong with him. His head is a a little pinched at the temples, there are scars on his skull, and it's clear he's not the brightest guy in the world. He usually wears a dour expression that's not really a sign of what's going on inside, more one of what he's missing emotionally owing to whatever his physical problem may be.
At the start of the dinner, Maia was reluctant to climb into her high chair. Then she held onto my arm and hid her head behind it. She does that when she's frightened, so I knew something was bothering her.
"I don't like that man," she said. "He's mean."
"Mean" is a generic term for her--it means somebody who looks angry or unfriendly or scary.
"He's not a mean man, Maia. He just has some problems. He was born that way. But he's not scary."
Maia knows the concept of "born that way" from Finding Nemo and her own problem. But I wasn't persuasive. She remained afraid to look at him. Even when she finally did sit up, some ten minutes or so into the meal, she avoided looking at him. She would snatch a look at him and then look away, afraid that he'd catch her in the act.
As the dinner wore on, Maia loosened up and became friends with the "Popos" at our table.
"Popo" means mother's mother. It's the term Maia uses for any Asian woman of a certain age.
She really had fun with them, as you may surmise from the pics.
And they enjoyed her enormously. Nothing warms an older Chinese lady's heart like a little girl or boy who enjoys their company.
Finally, at the end of the meal, she sat down next to the man who had frightened her. She did that all on her own. It isn't something I encouraged or would have encouraged. It was just something that she did spontaneously.
Maybe because he had been watching her playing with the Popos, he soon picked up a napkin, made a cone out of it, and put it on Maia's head.
She smiled at him. And then she did the neatest thing.
She put the napkin cone on the man's head. I don't think I've ever seen him so animated and happy. He didn't frighten her anymore.
Sometimes she will do something that just astonishes me.
John, Thursday, July 6, 2006
posted by John at 7/06/2006 09:04:00 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home