She has been asking for a kid's diary for a while now.
Her brother gave her a spare he had, and she has been announcing on a daily basis, "Do NOT look at me, Mama. I'm writing in my diary."
She keeps the key on a ring on her finger, and even chose a special pen.
I wondered what she was writing in there. She's almost 6 years old, and there's a lot going on in that pretty little head of hers.
Was it a place she wrote what worries her? Is she describing her scary dreams at night? Is she sad I made her and her brother clean the basement for hours this weekend? Does she not understand why sometimes Daddy works late at night or travels for days at a time?
Curiosity got the best of me, and with a heavy, worried heart, I unlocked her diary to see what was inside.
What did I find?
Love.
She has been practicing sounding out words and spelling them phonetically by making a long list of all the things she loves, all the things that make her happy.
"I love gold"
"I love my friends"
"I wish I had flowers"
"I love cold water"
"I love movies"
She wants to be a better speller, a better writer, a better reader, and the first thing that comes to her to write down is the love she has for so many people and things around her.
The things she'd love to experience.
The things she loves about herself.
"I wish I can take a slime bath"
"I am weird"
I had been worried that my spritely, emotional, thoughtful girl was hiding her sad behind lock and key.
But the feelings that live on the surface of her heart and mind are those of love and joy, appreciation of the small things, and hope to experience new things.
So not only did I learn the magnitude of happiness that she is filled with, my own increased exponentially with the simple turn of a key.