Re-Post: Don’t Tell My child He Can’t

As we walked the cobbled streets of this ancient and mystical village, I cherished the years of history that were embedded in the walls. There was so much to see and take in, but we only had a few hours before we had to meet our tour bus at the bottom of town. I walked with my family, trying to take in every detail. It was truly a magical place and each of my kids was allowed to buy one keepsake during this memorable journey. I gave them a budget and told them to wander. Of course my daughter chose a beautiful piece of jewelry; I expected nothing less. My youngest was happy with a little trinket toy, which probably broke before we boarded the plane. But my middle son, 9 years old at the time, was looking for just the right thing. In fact, he knew exactly what he wanted; he was just searching for the perfect one. We came upon an old shopkeeper who had a small assortment of instruments. My son’s eyes lit up as he searched through the pile to find the right one. Now, this was no ordinary instrument. It was magical and mystical and spiritual in every imaginable way, and this is exactly what he wanted. I didn’t know how to play this instrument, and neither did by husband. But that was no deterrent for my son. He was confidant that he would learn to play it. The shopkeeper was delighted that such a young boy had a desire to entrench himself in tradition and history. He ensured my son that although it...