The kidlet's best buddy at school transferred to an elementary closer to his house, and things have never been quite the same. In the mornings before school he stands close to me and looks forlorn instead of running off to play. "Why are you so sad?" I ask him.

"Because nobody is playing with me" he replies. I don't mention that he could just as easily go up to someone and ask them to play as wait for someone to ask him. The chaos of the schoolyard is still a bit much for him, and once again I find myself missing the familiar confines of our preschool where everyone upon seeing us arrive, cried out the kidlet's name and rushed to show him something or invite him into their game.

I wish he were braver and less sensitive--ha! I wish the same of myself. He is too much like me. I know the pain that this is likely to cause him. I want to take that pain away, to give him the tools he needs to shield himself from those things that will hurt him, to give him the courage to play his own way, and not care if anyone wants to join him. How can I give to him the things I find impossible to give to myself?

I can bear my own heartache, but I have no idea how I will ever survive all of his.