What Little Girls Are Made Of

As Paige was packing up for college last summer, we had a dilemma. She'd been borrowing my jewelry box for years because she had way more bangles and beads and baubles than I did.

I stopped wearing earrings when the kids were babies and pulled on them. My skin has autism. It doesn't like bracelets or necklaces or rings. She felt a little guilty about taking my box, especially since that left me without anything for the few things I do have.

On her dresser was a box she'd made at art camp in elementary school. It was empty. I asked her about the ceramic piece affixed to the top. Did she remember making it?

No, she said, but she did remember what inspired her. "I had learned the atmosphere was made up of bits of sunlight, and water, and the grass around us. I wanted to make that. I wanted to make the atmosphere."



That went right to my heart. "I'll trade you boxes," I said. She didn't think it was a fair trade, but I convinced her.

My little girl comes home for the holidays tonight.

Sugar and spice.