My 6-year-old niece is the real wild child. She is my hero. She is a woman who knows exactly what she wants, believes that she can do anything, sets challenging goals for herself, and is unafraid to do what is necessary to achieve her dreams.
My family and I took her swimming today at the lake near our home. The adults talked and watched from dry land. Half child/half adult, I played in the sand on the beach. The wild child refused all suggestions/commands to change from her dress into a swimsuit (a decision I supported) and cannon-balled into the water.
The shallow water, safe for swimming, was divided from the deep boating area by a horizontal wooden barrier with a vertical pole at its center. My niece swam out toward the barrier with fearless determination. When she passed the point where she could no longer stand on the lake shelf, the adults and I all screamed simultaneously for her to stop and return to shore immediately.
She swam back and sat next to me, quiet and defeated. The following conversation sounds like a transcript from a Family Channel sitcom (you can almost hear the sentimental piano music twinkling behind it), but I promise it's 100% accurate:
Me: Why did you swim out so far when you knew you weren't allowed?
Her: I wanted to touch the pole.
Me: Do you know how to swim well enough to make it on your own?
Her: Yes. Don't you believe me?
Me: If you know you can do it, I believe you.
She promised to shout for help if she got into trouble. The adults and I all stood at the ready as she waded out into the water. She looked back for permission, and we gave her the thumbs-up. Her feet left the shelf, and she paddled hard toward the deep water. She reached the pole easily, turned around, and smiled.
When she returned to shore, her younger brother begged for permission to swim out to the pole. My niece and I explained to him that he would have to work very hard until he's ready to swim to the pole himself. She taught him how to paddle, and he started to practice diligently on his own.
