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We were in Florida on vacation and it was evening time. It was the witching hour. You parents will understand what I mean by that phrase. It’s the time of day when your kids go a bit nuts and you wonder if your sanity will hold out till bedtime. It’s almost like they have some little internal clock that winds tighter and tighter as the sun goes down.

It was hot. The afternoon tropical rain had given way to sunny 92 degree twilight. The air even felt heavy to breathe. And like any good mommy, I was struggling to think how I could go about not only entertaining my brood, but creating a cool memory filled evening — without having the kids up too late. Then it hit me: let’s go out for ice cream!

Everyone was incredibly excited. In the car my 4 year old daughter Dinara was explaining in great detail about the difference between the cones, the types of chocolate ice cream and the merits of sprinkles vs. M & M’s for toppings. Dinara looks forward to trips to the ice cream parlor like other kids look forward to trips to an amusement park.

After much debate in front of the ice cream counter the kids made their choices. Emma got a Butter Pecan and Vanilla Cone with rainbow sprinkles. Dinara got Chocolate Chunk and Mint Chocolate Chip with Chocolate sprinkles. Noah got an Oreo Cookie and Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream in a cup with whipped crème. They were jumping up and down they were so excited.

Emma got her cone first. And it promptly slipped from her hand and fell smack on the floor. Just like watching a death defying action stunt in a movie, we all gasped in unison. She was devastated. The heat, the build up for the ice cream, the witching hour and then the cone loss all blended together to set up a perfect melt down. Her bottom lip began to tremble and she did a Puss-N-Boots sad kitten imitation that could win an Oscar before the tears started streaming.

I handed Dinara and Noah their ice creams and knelt down to comfort Emma. Her sobs muffled in the nape of my neck as I stroked her back and told her we could get her another one. But before the words were completely out of my mouth, Dinara without provocation, pushed between us and offered her cone to Emma. Before even taking a lick herself, she offered her confection treasure to her sister to lessen her suffering. She put her sister before herself. I shot her a proud smile. She beamed in the glory of knowing she did something right and good.

It was one of those “ah-ha” moments that wash away parenting ‘am I raising them right’ worries. My child recognized her sibling’s suffering and she gave up something she loved to make her sister feel better. She demonstrated compassion without prompting. Compassion married by providence. What more could a parent ask for?

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