Abouna's Daughter

Earlier this week, we were invited to a party and told my daughter could bring her swimsuit, as there was a great pool and other kids were coming. Knowing how much she loved pool time, I told her, "Bring your towel and your suit!" Her response floored me. In the most calm, positive, relaxed voice, she told me, "I don't think I can do that, mom. I'm Abouna's daughter." (Anybody else choking up already?)

This is a very little girl. I don't think I ever said to her "do this or do that because you're Abouna's daughter." I think I have been very careful about how I phrase things. She's also FIVE, so what am I going to ban her from doing? Also, this is a pool in a private home with her very closest friends. Also, she's FIVE. But she decided in her mind that this was how she wanted to behave. It was a moment, for me as a mother, of both pride and trepidation.

This post isn't about modesty. It's about duty. My duty as a mother to protect my daughter for as long as possible from the weight of others' expectations while at the same time giving her all the tools she needs to be a daughter of the King.

I know that I often used my very conservative parents to protect me from things I didn't want to do. If a high school party was questionable, I would tell my mom, "Tell me I can't go" and then turn and tell my friends, "Sorry, my parents said I can't go." This was simpler than saying, "You're a bunch of terrible drunks, and I'm not interested." So maybe she didn't want to go in the pool (for some other reason) and was already lining up her best excuse.

I don't know. This post is not coherent. I'm still trying to wrap my head around "I can't do that. I'm Abouna's daughter." I'm only in my second year as Abouna's wife, and I am definitely making it all up as I go along.