Story Hour

Tonight, I had a brilliant idea. I'd ask a friend to pick us up, and go to Royal Oak with Dano at 6. Barnes and Noble was down the street from the college and they had story hour at 6:30. Half an hour of train table, an hour of stories, crafts, and a snack, then home in time for bed.

We walked from the parking garage to Barnes and Noble hand in hand on a beautiful Fall evening. Lilah Rose played at the train table wonderfully, interacting well with the other kids. Most were younger than she was. Everyone shared, used manners, and said "excuse me" when bumped. There was an adorable little bilingual girl with dark brown eyes and hair. From the navy satin headband to the silver pacifier holder to the patent leather navy shoes, her outfit was designer and easily cost over 70 dollars. She looked like a doll and bobbed her head and spouted adorable little Spanish phrases. Her parents were equally beautiful and beamed proudly from the corner. They asked Lilah her named and she said, "Lilah Rose Marie. What's her name?" They told her it was Amelia. "AMELIA POND?!"

When story hour started, I noticed that the sweet, college-age hippie girl who used to run them had been replaced with a 50 year old version after a life of hard knocks. Same long hair and floral skirts, but grim expression and little patience in place of warm smile and easy manner with children. All the kids got settled on their tiny benches. I told Lilah the rules - listen to story, don't move around or bother people, don't get on the stage, do a craft, and have a snack. Or go home. There were three blonde, curly haired sisters who looked to be about 7, 5, and 2. The older two sat down on Lilah's bench. Her face lit up. "They want to be my friend!"

The mother bent over them and said, "Make room for your sister." They scooted until Lilah was displaced from the bench. She tried to find a spot, then made do with pulling a spare bench close to her new "friends". They looked at each other and sighed, moving to the floor. Away from Lilah. She told me her friends were moving so she needed to move too. She sat by them. They moved to a bench across the floor. She sat with them. They moved to the floor close to the teacher. I had already instructed Lilah she wasn't to go over there. She looked over at me.
"Can I sit with them over there?" I shook my head. She fussed at me. "Why? Please?" I looked over at the girls. They were grabbing the book out of the teacher's hand so they could see the pictures better.
"They're being naughty, sweetie."
"Will their mama put them in time out?" I looked. Their mother was cooing over how sweet they looked and taking pictures on her iPhone.
"She should. But your mama will put you in time out if you don't listen." She fussed, but returned to the bench. She made several more attempts to sit by/play with the two girls. They moved and even rolled their eyes a few times. One of the other mothers with twin daughters scoffed and watched wide-eyed as they continued to be mean to Lilah and act like brats during the story.

After the teacher read 2 she asked, "Craft or another story?" Every child shouted for craft. "Well...craft time is later. We have time for another story." All the kids were fidgety by the time the final story was done. She passed out the craft - paper scarecrow pieces and a glue stick to hold them together, then glue straw to the hat at the end. I tried not to judge a craft with a skill level far beyond the mostly 1-2 year group present. The older kids swarmed to the front of the line. Lilah was pushed to the back next to a pudgy 6 month old who was way more interested in how her toes tasted than making a scarecrow. Lilah looked up at me.
"Wait until those kids move, then we'll get your pieces to make a scarecrow."
"Can I use a glue stick?"
"Yes." She played with the baby until the herd cleared, then made her way to the front again. She was ignored by the teacher who looked obviously overwhelmed. Lilah looked around her, and picked up a discarded glue stick from the floor, then pushed a little closer to the front, smiling at the teacher. She was given a handful of straw. Lilah came back and sat on the bench, trying to make sense of what to do with straw and a glue stick. She looked at all the other colorful scarecrows the other kids were making, and put glue on the straw. Having nothing else to do, she set both aside and said, "Can I go play trains again, Mama?" I was angry. I wasn't sure what exactly I was angry at. Maybe that my unassuming, friendly daughter had been shoved aside multiple times by multiple people. Maybe that I wasn't the best mother in the world, but I was trying to teach my daughter to be considerate and conscientious of the children around her - how they were feeling when she was too loud for them to hear the story - when no one else seemed to teach their kids the same values. When did empathy become outdated? I led her down the escalator with clenched fists.

I told the story quietly to Rob when he picked us up. Lilah had told me she had fun, so I didn't want to taint her good time with my anger. She was too young to understand those girls were being mean. Too young to realize she'd been cheated out of a craft as a reward for being patient and unwilling to push to the front. I took her to Easy Like Sundae, more out of my own determination she should be rewarded than because she needed it. I thought about all the times I can remember Dano cheerfully telling me to "take the high road" when I knew we were being walked on or taken advantage of. "Karma's a bitch, Aranel." It's always easier for him than for me. If I barely manage to do it myself, how am I going to handle "do unto others" when it's my kid getting slighted?

At home while getting pajamas on, Lilah Rose snuggled in my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck. "Thank you for story time and the bookstore, Mama." I made a noise like a choked bird and teared up. "What's wrong, Mother? Are you sad." I swallowed my tears and shook my head.
"No, honey. I'm really glad you had a good time. You were really good, and listened to Mama. That means I'll really want to take you back again next time."
"Some girls didn't listen to their mama. Some girls were naughty."
"You're right. But even when other kids don't listen, it's important that you do. Even if they do naughty things. That doesn't mean Lilah Rose does them. You always try to be a good girl."
"Why didn't they get a time out? I should put them in time out." I sighed. She's so much like me. Always looking for justice at the expense of my own peace of mind. Dano always tells me to spend less time worrying about the rest of the world and only worry about the family. They're not our business.
"You know honey, it's not our job to give them a time out. That's their mama's job and we don't need to worry about it. All we need to worry about is you..." I poked her nose. "And me..." She poked my nose. "If we're good and listen and do what we know is right, then good things will happen to us."
"And I'll get to go to story time again because I listened. And play with the trains!"
"Exactly right. So don't worry about naughty kids. Just worry about you being the best girl you can be."
"I'm grand!" And she is. I so worry for her. I worry the world will eat my sweet girl alive. But I have to reassure myself that in addition to the sweetness, there's a fierce spirit in her that won't put up with any abuse. She will be the one sticking up for the kid who's teased, not joining in on the bullying. I think about my nephews. At their absolute worst, they would never do to a younger child what those girls did to Lilah. There are plenty of great kids as well as the terrible. And the good ones will change the world for the better.