Did you know that I collect masks?

Did you also know that I adore my daughter?

Yes, I collect masks. Perhaps you'd like to see some of my collection. I have 46 at last count. Here are some of my favorites. (Aren't you lucky? I just cataloged them all so I can remember where they came from. So I have lots of pictures to share.)



This one is my favorite, even though this isn't a very good picture. It came from Italy from a now ex-boyfriend.




This one is my first, purchased in New Orleans when I was in 9th grade.




This one is most people's favorite. It comes from Saipan. It's about 2 feet high. I call it Medusa.



This one is from Paraguay (I think. I'll have to check with my brother.)



See this one? This one is from India. A man from church who travels there frequently for business brought it back for me. (Oh, and I lay on you the charge that if you ever go anywhere exotic--meaning anywhere besides here--you bring one back for me too.) Anyway, this mask is probably not more than 3 inches tall.

As I was taking pictures last night for my catalog, I dropped this one while I was putting it back up on the wall. It broke in to several pieces. I stared at it. And my heart broke. It happens every time one breaks. I've broken at least three--usually because a child gets a hold of them.

Anyway, I stared at it with sadness. I felt horrible because this was a recent addition and I didn't want the person who gave it to me to come in and see it gone and ask the questions. I decided just to ask my neighbor to bring me another one. My daughter was standing by me and watched all of this happen. We played with it a bit, putting some of the pieces back together. And I gave up on it. She promptly grabbed all the pieces and ran off.



She came back later with it glued together. It has dried and is back up on the wall now. This act touched me. It touched me that my daughter would see my sadness and try to make it right. It touched me that she is growing up into a girl who can see the misery in others and want to help. And it touched me that she acted where I was ready to throw the pieces away. It is back up on the wall, in it's place, and will stay there as long as I can, because of her.

It is a reminder of her generosity. It's a reminder that my kids are growing and learning, even when I get impatient. It's a reminder that even though they fight, my kids are caring people who care about each other. (Seth saved Kendra 1/4 of a muffin yesterday. They fight like cats and dogs.) It's a reminder that stuff is just that--stuff, but my children are mine forever.

And it's a reminder that sometimes it's worth it to fix it instead of throw it away.