My daughter is exceptionally kind and i thought she was the only one so it has been such a beautiful time for me to read about all the other lovely kind children mentioned here. I feel very humbled right now. :-)
I'd like to share with you some of my daughter's kindness too:
To accompany the always holding doors, letting other people go first, donating her pocket money, sorting through old toys and books in the run up to Christmas to be donated (she saw an ad one year and has decided to keep this going) etc
When my daughter was in year 1 (so aged about 5 years), one of her best friends was diagnosed with a brain tumor. It was a terrifying time for for her parents, the uncertainty of her condition meant that she wasn't always in school but whenever she was my daughter made sure she played with her as much as could and everyday she would tell her how beautiful she was. Her friend had gone bald from chemotherapy but my daughter didn't ever see that and would always come home telling me how beautiful her friend was. When her friend was finally given the all clear and her hair had grown back my daughter bought her all manner of hair accessories to use for her birthday- i swear there must have been enough in there for everyday that she had been without hair. It was a truly beautiful gesture. It might seem like a small thing but it meant so much to the two of them.
The second act of kindness (although actually before the previous one above) was when my Uncle Steve died, i had to help with the funeral, my daughter was in reception and ended up coming with me as it was far away. Sadly the funeral was planned for the day before her birthday but she kept herself composed about not having a real birthday. She was just four years old.
We sat in the funeral car behind my Uncle's coffin. My Mum, my Grandad, My daughter and myself in a row.
There was a moment sat there when I realised that my beautiful little girl wasn’t a big girl, that she was in fact a very small incomplete person, yet to be completely moulded. And yet, it was she who impressed me the most with her composure and stopped my heart from entirely breaking.
Holding my hand, in the gentle way she does, I observed her studying my Grandad. It was hard for him to show his emotions and he avoided doing so when he could, despite it all probably hitting him harder than anyone realised. As she looked from me to him, from my hand in which she clung to she gently to his empty ones, she reached out her little hand and picked up his. This small act, so mature for her age was probably the sweetest thing I have ever seen.
At times when the tears flowed this little girl, my shining star, would lift up my hand to her lips and softly kiss it to reassure me that the tears would once again stop, for how ever short a time.
It was one of the saddest times of my life and of my Grandad's life- burying his child but her maturity and kindness really shone through that day.