Wren came bounding through the front door, a smile stretched across her face, after a Sunday out and about with my parents. It was just what she needed, a little space from her sisters. As she walked through the dining room, her little sisters appeared, having missed their big sister who they had been antagonizing for days. Wren handed me a bag, a birthday present. “It’s not from Mimi. It’s from me,” she boasted.
I pulled her in for a hug and tucked the gift away for later.
Later came after dinner, after the dishes had been washed and put away, and after several bouts of silly shenanigans that come when company comes.
Wren once again handed me the gift, reminding me again that it was from her… the pride ringing out loud and clear. As I opened the card my mom said, “she knew just what she wanted to get and she spent a lot of time on that card.”
My eyes began to run over the words Wren had written on the left hand side of the card. The words were familiar. My mind filtered through moments.
Wren has written a poem, a sort of copycat poem, based on Zoe Ryder White’s poem, “Inside My Heart.” I had just used that poem a few weeks ago to model reading poetry aloud in a few second grade classes at my school. We even wrote our own copycat poems after studying Zoe Ryder White’s poetry moves-Moves that Wren had recreated in my birthday card.
My mind searched again. Had I shared the poem with Wren?
How did she know how to do this?
Where had these words and ideas come from?
She had disappeared as I looked up, eager to talk to her about this poem. I called to her and then she was back. “How did you come up with this idea?” I asked.
“Mrs. G read us the poem. She said it would be good to do for a birthday,” and then just like that, Wren was off again to take part in more shenanigans.
I sat there lost in thought, so touched that my girl had taken this experience at school and gifted it back to me in my birthday card.
Right before I sat down to write about this moment here, I sent Wren’s teacher an email letting her know about Wren’s card and the poem. I closed the email with, “I wanted you to know that she hears you and we are so grateful.”
I hope she realizes the beauty that I realized in this moment. Her teaching stuck. She inspired a writer to write. This feels like a gift to her teacher as much as it is to me…and of course, a gift to Wren.