My daughter left for Greece this morning

I am my daughter's first and most important teacher; in many ways, she is also mine. I re-discovered baking because she enjoyed being in the kitchen. I read aloud all seven volumes of The Chronicles of Narnia because she hung on every word. I searched for child-friendly versions of Greek and Roman myths so that she could understand them and, through them, make sense of her world. And I have learned more in my role as Mom than in any other part of my life.

I've wanted to teach my daughter to respect herself, others, history, and her intuition. Sometimes, allowing her to learn about those things requires more of me than I really intended to give. The trip to Greece is a case in point. We had read about Hera and Zeus, Demeter, Heracles, Persephone, Apollo, Poseidon, and Atlas (among others), looked for the myths embedded in popular stories and movies, and identified the patterns—dysfunctional families, competitive games, petty jealousies—that just don’t change much, regardless of century. So, when I heard “Mom, I want to go on the Spring Break trip to Greece,” all I could do was smile. I brought it on myself.

And I asked for one thing from Greece: I asked my daughter to write about her trip...what she sees, what she learns, how she feels. Though the writing will serve as a reminder of her trip (all she remembers from London is Big Ben and "having to walk a lot"), the far more important reason is that the view through my daughter's eyes is the best view I know.