“I did it myself!” Patch announced.
I looked down at him. He was wearing his Sunday dress shirt and the buttons were already buttoned. Maneuvering those tiny buttons into the tiny holes is a major accomplishment for six-year-old fingers. Another major accomplishment is making sure that the buttons and holes are aligned correctly. Patch had managed the first, but not the second. His shirt hung crookedly on his front. I looked down into his bright blue eyes. He was so pleased with his accomplishment. I had no heart to criticize, to steal the joy of his triumph and replace it with embarrassment. I hugged him tight and told him what a great job he had done. Then I let him wear his crooked shirt to church. He never noticed the mistake. Next Sunday when I hand him his shirt, I’ll casually drop the hint that buttons and holes are easier to line up if he starts from the bottom instead of the top. He’ll be set up to succeed again, rather than doubting his capabilities because of the prior week’s failure. Sometimes it is far more important to let people bask in the joy of a difficult task accomplished, than to tell them how to do it better next time.