>Sweet Spirit

I am constantly battling my urges to treat my children as if they’re the cutest, smartest, most special little creatures in all the world.

I mean, of course, I love them with all my heart, and think they’re simply divine. My worry is that we’ve become a society of parents who treat our children like they’re mini gods and goddesses. Instead of disciplining them when they act up in public, we smile indulgently. Instead of letting them fail the test they didn’t study for, we give them a sick day. Instead of limiting their toys and activities so that they learn to treasure what they have, we shower them with continuous gifts and “opportunities.” What’s worse, we try to outdo each other, turning the whole childrearing situation into something of a feeding frenzy.

I’m trying (and often failing) to fight these urges. I don’t think they’re ultimately good for my children.

But over the weekend, I realized that Punky is indeed a special, rare gift of a girl in at least one critical way, and it’s time to recognize her for it.

Punky spent last weekend in the company of many, many children. She went to two birthday parties and had friends over, as well. And seeing her interact with so many children, I saw a quality in her that made me absolutely glow with pride.

Each time she was getting ready to spend time with a friend, she’d go to her room and rummage through her bag of treasured vending toys from her grandfather. She’d choose two toys for her friend “to keep forever,” and reverantly give them to the child when they met. I know these toys well, and know which ones she loves (the Disney Princesses) and which ones she doesn’t love as much (the Care Bears). I fully expected her to choose toys she didn’t play with very often. Instead, she consistently chose her favorites.

“You know that you’re giving these toys to your friends to keep, right Punky?” I asked. “You won’t get these toys back.” I didn’t want regrets down the road when Sleeping Beauty or Cinderella came up missing.

“I know, Mommy,” Punky would say. “But I really want my friend to have them.”

This kind of behavior manifested itself over and over again all weekend. When a boy came over to play and pointed at Punky’s Halloween candy, I asked her if it was okay if he had some.

“I’d love for Mikey to have my Halloween candy!” she exclaimed. That’s about the last thing I would have said when I was her age. Instead, I would have sorted through the pile and found something I most definitely did not want.

But not Punky.

She gives her friends and family the best she has to offer. When her friends come over, she decorates her room for them and spends hours planning activities she thinks her friend would enjoy. If her brother is crying, she immediately runs to help him in any way she can. If she gets to eat a candy treat, she roams the house with it, sharing it with every member of her family.

I’ve watched my daughter interact with others long enough now to realize that she is incredibly, unusually considerate and generous. She is a giver at heart. She genuinely cares about others. And I am in awe. I would rather her have these qualities than a beautiful singing voice or flawless features or amazing math skills. I think I’m prouder of my daughter right now than I’ve ever been in my life- and that’s saying something. My daughter is showing in spades one of the most priceless attributes I could ever hope for in my children- and I am now giving myself full and complete permission to shower her with affection for it.

I am really and truly blessed.

This post originally appeared on Parents.com.