We often don’t give children the benefit of the doubt, especially when they say something that is difficult to grasp. Then again, we may just feel as if we know better than them in the circumstances.
Perhaps that is why the person in the following story did not fully believe what the child was seeing. I’ll admit that it would have been difficult to get behind such a story, but the child was insistent with what they said.
This story will teach us that sometimes, it is better to believe the child and to get to the root of the issue. You can read more to find out why that is such an important lesson to learn.
Me: “A genuine phantom? Could it be said that you are certain, darling?”
He: “Indeed, Mother! She was in our home!”
Me: Befuddled and stressed, I looked around the bistro, looking for any indications of the alleged spooky server.
My little child kept on shuddering, his eyes focused on the server as she approached her obligations. I chose to move toward her, expecting to figure out the wellspring of my child’s apprehension.
Me: “Excuse me, miss. Please accept my apologies for irritating you, yet my child generally tends to assume he’s considered you to be a phantom in our home. Do you know what he may allude to?”
The server took a gander at me with a perplexed articulation, guaranteeing me that she had never been to our home or experienced my child previously. I said thanks to her and got back to our table, confused by the unfurling circumstance.
Sometime thereafter, I plunked down with my child to dig further into his spooky experience.
Me: “Darling, might you at any point inform Mama seriously regarding the apparition you saw at our home?”
He: “She closely resembled her, Mother. Same face and everything.”
Me: “Who, sweetheart? The server?”
He: “Actually no, not her. Daddy’s companion. The one he converses with on the PC.”
Out of nowhere, it clicked. My child was alluding to a video call he had seen between his dad and a companion, who had a striking likeness to the server. The trepidation in his blameless eyes had originated from a misconception.
Me: “Gracious, child! That wasn’t a phantom. Daddy was conversing with his companion on the PC. She’s alive and not a phantom by any stretch of the imagination.”
Help washed over my child’s face as the bits of the riddle made sense. It was a snapshot of acknowledgment for the two of us – the innovative brain of a kid winding around stories from ordinary experiences.
As we completed our time in the bistro, my child said farewell to the ‘spooky’ server, presently with a smile all over. The extraordinary trepidation had disseminated, abandoning a comical family tale that we would value into the indefinite future.”
