The Emma Tag

Emma had her buy-n-sell at school last week and bought a goldfish. I swore to Kim (the mother of fish entrepreneur) that I would return the favor by leaving a ferrett or something like that on her doorstep. I was not thrilled about having this foul smelling, fecal filled bowl in my home, but after seeing E.J.'s care and concern for this little guy, my mind was changed. Guppy, as named by Emma, began his journey to brown brick in a small baggie. He raced around in that plastic like he had just seen the 1st atomic bomb, and it was affecting Emma emotionally (boy do I love her). She wouldn't leave me alone about going to buy him a bowl, and food, and rocks, and everything else he would need to live a happy life on her cluttered chest of drawers. She kept telling me how stressed he looked and that he would starve to death if we didn't get to Wal-mart within the hour. She even followed through on buying all that he needed with her own money, pennies included for the pitied Wal-mart cashier. Since his arrival she has been a dedicated caregiver to her sweet Guppy. I'm glad I realized that this would be a good opportunity to have her feed and clean for another, because Guppy really is quite cute. I rolled my eyes to another mom as E.J. was carrying Guppy to the car. The other mom said, "Yeah, we already got rid of ours." How could she do that? I admit, I wasn't happy about the adoption either and I did hope for a sooner than later peaceful passing of Emma's new friend, but I could not rid her of him. And now when we look at him inside his little bowl, he swims to our eyes and stares straight at us as if to say "thank you." I told Steve that he kinda has a personality because he goes into a rapid swim when he sees us and then swims in place when we get close to him. Steve then rolled his own eyes and replied "that's ridiculous Ang." Well whatever, I guess only special people notice the extra stroke in Guppy's fins. This is our typical Emma because she has a sensitive place in her heart for all living things in need or distress. We were on Jetblue to Anaheim last month and I was doing my normal I-hate-t.v-channel-flipping when I looked at Emma's screen and noticed she was very focused on CNN, so I switched mine to the same channel. I should've guessed - Dr. Martin Luther's King's followers were being interviewed. She has been extremely interested in the Civil Rights Movement since January and is naturally disturbed that African-Americans were not allowed the same privileges as whites. She seriously listens to the ENTIRE "I have a dream" speech on her iPod almost daily. She can tell you the Rosa Parks story and about Coretta King's phone call to JFK at any given moment. It is funny and touching at the same time, and once again, I'm so proud that she's mine. I didn't want to forget this phase so I took a picture of her latest library book. She has checked similar ones out every week for 3 months now.

Emma has equally gone through Abraham Lincoln and Holocaust periods as well. She had a book club with her friends and she chose a book about some French children who helped a nun hide 10 Jewish students. When she was discussing the fact that the Jewish children has lost their parents to her group, she started to cry. It was one of the sweetest things I've seen in my life. To my content, it looks as though she will always be average in math, spelling and science. To my joy, it appears that she will possibly be leading protests and uprisings for the just causes and wrongs of the world. Some parents picture a future of their children graduating from Ivy League medical schools, but I imagine and embrace the thought of Emma in the headlines for chaining herself to the doors of a fancy fur coat factory. I'm sure I'll be proud of her for whatever path she decides to walk in life, but for now I swell with pride at the conviction she shows for the undermined and inferior.

This is the Mother's Day card she made for me. She writes, "I love you Mom! Vilets are red roses are blue, I know that I Love You." Love, Emma. She also wrote poems to my Mom and Grandma. Steven asked when I would to correct her that roses are red and violets are blue. "Never," I told him, "maybe in her world the blooms are different colors." Emma might be onto something. I think it'd be a welcome change if we saw more roses of blue, vibrant red violets, and goldfish who react subtly when we make sucker lips at them.

I tag my nephew Justice and Carrie's Peyter whom I like to call Sweetness after the great Walter Payton.