So it happened, although earlier,

and not the child I expected it to happen with.

Recently I was driving the children to school and happened to see a note my middle diva hadn’t put inside her bag.

I picked it up, curious, and felt my heart lurch as she expressed her feelings toward a boy, as well as her grief and anger he had cast her aside for a friend.

A flood of emotions ran through me.

Amusement at the idea my tiny six-year-old was large enough to contain such huge emotion.

Sadness that she’d already experienced love lost, and my own, that I was already losing her in some small measure to someone else.

The idea that my children will love someone else in an all-encompassing way is something I’m eager to see them experience- one day.

I hope they find a true love they can weather the storms of life with,

that they are graced with deep and lasting friendships, and that children of one sort or another will bring them joy.

But at the same time, I thought I had a little more time before that day came.

I thought they would be mine at least until grade five or six, and prayed for high school if possible.

A gentle conversation on passing notes at school ensued.

I did my best to be thoughtful and respectful of her big feelings, and tell both older (who was listening with great interest!) and middle that teachers generally frowned on passing notes.

The note itself, I also explained, would probably be seen as hurtful to one or more children in her grade and that was why I was going to hang onto it.

I said I understood how deeply this experience had hurt her, and although I know she doesn’t believe me now one day she would look back and know he wasn’t the boy for her after all.

Of course, she objected. “He’s my true love!”

Sighing, I agreed with her. “Yes, he is your true love, right now. But you will have many true loves before you meet the one true love you settle for. I promise you. I know it hurts, but this means he isn’t your true love – at least, not right now.”

“But I love him so much!”

“Yes, because he is your first love. And that means he’s always going to be special to you. But now isn’t your time. Maybe someday, you’ll love each other again, but right now he has picked another. It isn’t her fault, and it isn’t his fault.”

We kissed and hugged and her tears dried up.

When I picked her and her older sibling up later that day I asked if she felt a bit better.

“Yes, but I’m still sad.”

I smiled.

Her tears were dry, and she had a new wisdom that made me proud and wistful all at once.

We spoke of other things, how her day was and not even once did she mention her true love.

And when the babysitter of her dreams arrived that night, she was as animated as ever; wanting to do hair and makeup and nails and play with the superhero teenager.

I’m grateful hearts mend fast at this age,

but I’m already frightened for what fifteen and sixteen will hold for us.

With three girls and a boy,

I think we’re in for some stormy weather

before the sun shines at last