When the invisible umbilical cord is cut

My husband and I honor punctuality. But when we arrived at the kindergarten in our neighborhood one afternoon, we found a party in full swing. Loud, cheerful music burst out of the half-open door, through which we could see people walking in a circle, clapping and waving hands. Seeing our hesitation, a smiling lady called us to join.

I've always been an awkward dancer. Back in high school, my math teacher, a kind old lady she was, couldn't help laughing when she saw me learning disco, which was introduced to the PE lesson. But there I was, trying to wave with elegance and smile away embarrassment among perfect strangers.

Well, not everyone was a stranger. "Which class are you in?" inquired the mother of Apple, a lovely plump girl of my son's age. "Too bad we are not in the same class. But we could help each other pick up the kids in the afternoon," she said in the usual brisk tone.

Having known each other for five years and shared many walks with round bellies two years ago, we were attending the very first parents' meeting in our lives together.

I read from a book that upon the moment a child walks, or is carried, into the kindergarten, the mother feels that the invisible umbilical cord between them is finally severed. However worried she may be, it is time for the child to find a way of his/her own to the unknown.

To help us ease these worries, the kindergarten invited a child educator to talk about separation anxiety. But what does that have to do with dancing in a circle?

"Please find someone you don't know and bow to each other, introduce your name and your child's name," said an affable lady in her 50s. "From now on, your children will spend most time of the day here and you will all become part of a big family."

As we finished bowing and introduction like children, we sat on small stools. The lecturer began expounding her theories. It is the parents, not the children, so she says, who suffer the most from separation anxiety.

One granny who brought up her grandson just couldn't let the boy's hands free and they cried everyone's heart out on the first day to the kindergarten. But it was the boy who got tired first and asked: "Granny, can we find something to eat?"

After small tales, we were given pieces of colorful paper, on which we wrote down worries and hopes for our children. "Now fold the paper into a balloon, blow air into it, and blow away your worries," said our mentor.

Finally, each parent must stand up to introduce the child. I talked about my son's hobby - climbing tractors and firefighting engines, and asked the teachers to forgive him if he took apart any toy.

But it was a father in a white shirt who made the most memorable introduction. "I work in the bank. For those of you who want to gain profits in the stock market, I could be able to help!" Everyone laughed, but no one remembered his son's name.

Well, with such an interesting new family, I don't think there's much to worry about but plenty of things to discover and enjoy.

(China Daily 08/22/2007 page20)