Maxims

Smaller Than It Feels

Mia builds a tall, tall tower.
Red block. Blue block. One more on top.

Crash!
Blocks roll all over the floor.

Mia’s face gets hot.
Her eyes get wet.
This is the worst thing ever.

It feels so big.
But it’s smaller than it feels.

Sad is real.
Mia can cry, and she does.
Mom sits down on the floor with her.
Mom doesn’t say stop.
She just holds Mia’s hand.

The next day, Mia sees the blocks.
She builds again.
This time the tower is wide at the bottom.

Big happy feelings work the same way.

Grandpa gives Mia a shiny new ball.
This is the best thing ever!
She hugs it at dinner.
She takes it to bed.

It feels so big.
But it’s smaller than it feels.

One week later, where is the ball?
Under the couch, with the dust.
Mia still likes it.
Now it’s just a ball again.

When a feeling is very, very big,
put your hand on your tummy.
Take one slow breath in.
Let it out.
Find a grown-up and tell them.

Say it with me:
It feels so big.
But it’s smaller than it feels.

A note for the grown-up

For the grown-up reading aloud: this comes from La Rochefoucauld’s Maxims (1665–1678), one line in particular: “We are never so happy or so unhappy as we suppose.” The point is that a feeling looks bigger from the inside than it turns out to be. It doesn’t say the feeling is wrong or should be hidden, which is why Mia cries and is held instead of being told to stop. The breathing and the grown-up are there so the child has something to do with the feeling. The book as a whole is best known for a larger and still-argued claim, that most good behavior hides self-interest; this primer takes none of that.

My Own Shoes

Sam finds Dad’s big shoes by the door.
He steps in. Clomp. Clomp.
Down he goes!

Sam tries to talk like his big sister.
He makes his voice low and bored.
It comes out funny.

Sam tries to walk like the big kids.
Slow and cool.
He bumps right into the door.

Those shoes are not Sam’s shoes.

My own shoes fit me best.

Sam puts on his own green shoes.
He runs across the yard.
Fast! He jumps the puddle.
He laughs his own big laugh.
It sounds just like Sam.

Sam can still learn new things.
He can learn to tie a bow.
He can learn to read the word “stop.”
Learning is not pretending.
Learning is growing in your own shoes.

My own shoes fit me best.

Can you show me your own laugh?
Can you show me your own jump?
Now show me your own silly face.

Say it with me:
My own shoes fit me best.

A note for the grown-up

For the grown-up reading aloud: this comes from La Rochefoucauld’s short essay “On Air and Manner” and his maxim “We should gain more by letting the world see what we are than by trying to seem what we are not.” He noticed that small children are easy to like because they act the way they naturally are, and that they get awkward once they start copying others; “there are no good copies.” He wasn’t against learning, and said acquired habits should blend with our own nature, which is why the primer keeps learning in. It doesn’t promise that being yourself makes everyone like you.

Ears First

At dinner, everyone wants to talk.
Lily saw a frog today!
A green frog, by the pond.

Her brother Ben talks first.
He rode his bike down the big hill.

Lily waits.
She is not listening.
She is only waiting.
Frog, frog, frog, she thinks.
Her eyes look at the ceiling.

Ben stops talking.
He looks at his plate.

Ears first, then my turn.

Lily looks at Ben.
She listens to the whole bike story.
The hill was so steep.
The wind was so loud.

Then Lily asks one question.
Did you go really fast?

Ben smiles a big smile.
Super fast, he says.
Then Ben asks,
What did you see today?

Now it’s Lily’s turn.
Frog time!

Ears first, then my turn.

Your words matter too.
You can take a turn after.
Ears just go first.

Next time someone tells you something,
try ears first.
Then ask one question.

Say it with me:
Ears first, then my turn.

A note for the grown-up

For the grown-up reading aloud: this comes from La Rochefoucauld’s maxim 139 and his short essay “On Conversation.” He noticed that most people in a conversation are thinking about what they want to say rather than listening, and that “to listen well and to answer well” are among the greatest charms a person can have. The primer keeps the child’s own turn in view so the lesson isn’t read as “your words don’t matter.” Ben asking back is what happened this time, not a promise that it always will.