I was folding Little’s linens and got philosophical (as I do, on occasion). I thought about how shrewd it was for comforter manufacturers, particularly those who market to young children, to have comforter sets that feature popular kids’ cartoons and characters like Cars or PJ Masks that, when you flip them over, simply have patterns with the same color scheme.
Why is this shrewd?
Well, clearly they considered that based on the cost of the comforter set (which can easily set caregivers of young children back hundreds of dollars per set), it may only seem worth the investment if the set could still be used after the quickly fading interest in the characters dissipates.
I folded the comforter sets and thought of my growing child who still loves blue hues, but who is maturing and changing interests at what seems lightning speed. He still fits in his bed because his grandparents had the forethought to purchase him a crib that transitions with him. So, despite heading into middle school, he is still bunking in the investment and sleeping supported by the love shown to him many years ago.
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What do these illustrations illuminate for us as caregivers, teachers and communities?
Love is an investment.
Pouring into individuals based on where they are and what their needs and interests currently reflect does not mean we will see how it suits them much later. It is an act of faith. A proclamation to the person and the world of the worth we see in that individual. Once we give it we no longer are stewards of it and must trust it will do what it was sent forth to do.
Love is communal foresight.
Thinking of folks involves accepting that they will grow and that that growth may look very different than what we imagined with or for them at present. When you endow someone with your fiscal, affective or intellectual gifts, it is incumbent upon you to consider that they will need the room to stretch out with a specificity you couldn’t possibly anticipate, yet one that only a community of care might be able to guide you (as an individual) towards understanding.
Love is a legacy.
My Little may not watch the same cartoons he used to, but he often asks how he obtained different artifacts in his possession and what inspired them. Those conversations lead to the love of his village, elders and loved ones and how they saw and invested in him at different stages of his life. He doesn’t have to remember the characters, but he’ll never forget the community.
Back to folding and philosophizing… and hoping you are wrapped in love!
