At 2 o’clock in the afternoon on a sunny winter day, my front room is full of light. The low angle of the sun in the sky allows it to sneak under the rim of the porch and shine directly through the arched window. This is where I hung the solar powered rainbow maker that I got for my birthday. The sun falls directly on the couch and refracted rainbows dance around the room as the crystals spin.

By noon the day felt like a wasteland of things not done. I’d crashed back to sleep after getting the kids off to school instead of doing the pre-tax accounting which was supposed to be my first priority for the day. Three hours later I dragged myself out of bed to discover the day half gone and myself lacking any sort of motivational energy. I puttered away the last two hours until time to retrieve the kids from school, then washed up on the couch to sit in the sunshine and watch rainbows slide across my walls.

The rainbows moved in rhythmic patterns on the walls. One comet shaped rainbow raced across the ceiling then slowed and paused. A second comet raced up to join it then both reversed course to vanish across the room. I watched them appear and disappear, also marking the patterns of a dozen other rainbows across the ceiling, floor, and walls. It was soothing and contemplative. My fretfulness about lack of productivity faded and my mind drifted.

Patch wandered into the room, saw me, and settled on the couch beside me. We talked a little about school and friends. He expressed his sadness about a friend who moved out of our cul de sac this week. She’s been in his life as long as he can remember and he’ll miss her. We talked together until we saw another friend through the front window and he ran off to play. Gleek dashed through the room several times on various errands pertinent to playing out doors in the winter sunshine. Her bright colored knee socks flashed cheerfully as she went past. Once she stopped to talk to me for a minute about school and the game she was playing outdoors. Kiki wandered into the room and sat down next to me, snuggled on my shoulder. We sat in silence, absorbing sunshine and watching rainbows together until her math tutor arrived.

The sun moved onward until the sunlight no longer shone directly on the couch. The crystals fell into shadow making the rainbows vanish. by that time, I was gone too. The need to supply dinner had drawn me from my repose. Strange that an afternoon of sitting and drifting can change a day from wasted to lovely. I’m glad it worked. I’m glad, not only for the rainbows, but for the little flashes of my children’s lives that I was able to observe by sitting still and quiet.

“I’m scared.” said Gleek. This was not news to me. I’d witnessed her last-minute frantic scramble to find a specific small stuffed animal to tuck in her pocket.
“Sometimes it helps if you list out exactly what you are scared about.”
“I’m scared about going to a new school. I’m scared I won’t make friends. I don’t want to miss 5th and 6th grade at my school. I don’t think I will like a different school. I’m worried that Bestfriend will leave me behind. What if I fail?”
We were in the car on the way for Gleek to take a test which could qualify her for the A.L.L. program.

A.L.L. stands for Accelerated Learning Lab. It is a gifted program where smart kids are pulled from several schools and put together in a single class. That class is then able to focus on high level learning. It used to only be available for 5th and 6th grade. Now kids can test into it for 3rd and 4th grade as well. Patch was going to test too, but he got sick.

“That’s a lot of things to be scared about.” I said in answer to Gleek’s list. “Why don’t we talk them through?”
“Okay.” Gleek answered fiddling with the strap of her bag. The bag contained three books, five snacks, and a water bottle. Her stuffed cat was in her pocket.
“Most of those fears are about switching schools. We don’t have to switch schools if you don’t want to. We’re just taking the test so that you have a choice.”
Gleek nodded.
“The other ones, about failing and Bestfriend leaving you, those are about the test. Lets think about the worst it could get and then lets list what you can do to prevent the worst.”
Gleek nodded again and we started to talk.

I have mixed feelings about the A.L.L. program. Kiki went through it and those two years were an emotional wringer for both of us. In hindsight, I think those two years were hard because of things that were inherent to Kiki and I. It probably is not fair to blame the A.L.L. program, but I still contemplate it with some aversion. Gleek has been having a good year, but three out of four years prior were varying degrees of hard. We want more options. Having her take the test might give us an option.

“We’re going to be late.” Gleek said looking at the clock. “It’s okay if we’re too late and I don’t get to test. I’ll just play with Bestfriend after school. We’ll make a schedule and I’ll be sure to let her pick more of the games.”
I looked at the clock too. The trip had taken longer than anticipated because I was driving in unfamiliar territory. Also, we’d spent precious minutes searching for a stuffed animal.
“Sounds like you’re convinced that Bestfriend will pass the test.”
“Yes.”
We pulled up to the school and dozens of people were still walking into the building. We got inside and joined the crowd of people. Gleek stood close to me and pulled out the new book I’d bought for her. It shielded her from her own nervousness.
Time came for her to walk away from me and her chin quivered just a little bit. I wondered why I was putting us through this. It was a thought I revisited during the three hours I spent in a teacher’s lounge with motion sensitive lights that turned off every 10 minutes unless I waved my arms or walked around the room. I got some writing done, also some worrying.

They had the parents line up along the walls so the kids could easily find them as they exited classrooms. Forty or fifty kids filed past me in clumps of various sizes. The crowd in the hallway began to thin out. I caught my first sight of Gleek, she was chattering away to another little girl. In three hours of testing and break times the two had become fast friends.
“Was that really three hours?” Gleek asked me, then kept talking without waiting for an answer. “It was easy. I thought it would be hard, but it was just like regular work. I want to go to L School. That’s where NewFriend is going and then we could be in the same class. I didn’t like the timed test. I could have gotten the last problem if they only gave me 30 more seconds.”
The stream of chatter continued all the way to the car and for half of the drive home. Gleek was happy. I had not subjected her to a traumatic experience, so I was happy too.

I don’t know what the results of this test will be. I don’t much care. Whether or not she gets into the program, this test represents a triumph. Gleek faced something she was scared to do and she conquered it. Next week I get to do it again for Patch at a different testing site. Gleek’s excited chatter has him convinced that he does not want to miss out.

Twelve girls sat in a circle on the floor of my family room. The carpet down there is green, which any girl with a good imagination can imagine into a lovely lawn for a spring-time picnic. The girls were decked out in dresses and eating dainty sized treats from plastic plates. It was Gleek’s Anne of Green Gables birthday party, and everyone was participating fully in the spirit of the event. There was much discussion about being lady-like and What Things Were Really Like For Anne, as the girls ate gold fish crackers, PBJ sandwiches, mini fig newtons, and Kit Kat bars. It was the dainty afternoon-tea feel of the food that was important not true period-accuracy. Gleek sat among the girls, glowing with happiness.

“10 is like the perfect age.” Gleek said to me one night as she was carefully tucking her blanket around the sides of the bed. Blanket tucking was an essential ritual before crawling under the blanket to go to sleep. “10 year olds can do big kid stuff and still play. It is kind of like the middle.”
“That’s why it’s called tween, because it is between being a kid and a teenager.” I said handing her a stuffed animal.
“Tween.” Gleek said, savoring the sound of the word. “Being a tween is perfect. When I got to heaven, I want to be 10 forever.” She tucked the stuffed animal carefully into place before sliding her legs underneath the comforter. “And I want wings.”

After the Anne themed picnic, the girls gathered for a shadow play. The shadow puppet theater hid the two teenage girls from the sight of the twelve younger ones. These girls had never seen a shadow play before and they were fascinated by the way the shadows could move and seem life-like. There is no shadow play in Anne of Green Gables, but it feels right for the party. Similarly appropriate are the little paper fairy boxes that the guests construct out of printed paper and tape. The girls sang songs as they cut and taped. Twelve tweens singing in chorus is very charming.

I first introduced Gleek to Anne of Green Gables several years prior to the party. I felt the knowing Anne would be good for Gleek. She could see how an imaginative, impulsive, energetic, creative girl could grow from someone who was always in trouble into a person to be admired. Gleek listened to Anne’s adventures nightly via an audio book. I think it helped. I know that Gleek came to love Anne.

“Happy birthday to you!” sang the girls. Gleek blew out the candles on her cupcake, and everyone cheered. Beside Gleek were the presents she had unwrapped a few minutes earlier. Craft supplies, art supplies, clothing, make-up, and jewelry. She received no toys, and did not even notice that she had not. The party wound to an end and the guests went home.

Gleek is 10, just one year younger than Anne at the beginning of the book. Her life will be quite different than Anne’s in detail, but the themes will be strikingly similar. This is why Anne of Green Gables is still beloved generations after it was written. 10 is a threshold. Gleek has entered double digits. She is beginning to leave behind her toys and heading off to new interests. She is still small enough to scoop into my lap and snuggle, but big enough for ear rings and pop music. I have to agree with Gleek. 10 is pretty close to perfect and I’ve got 365 days to enjoy it until we’re off into the adventure that 11 will be.