A highlight on a child’s painting

A highlight on a child’s painting.

It is never a waste of time teaching someone else’s child.

I was having a conversation with my daughter Celeste about how sometimes we think we aren’t making a difference in a child’s life.

Maybe they’re not our child. Maybe we only teach them for a little while, spend a few afternoons with them, or cross paths with them just once.

And I said to Celeste, “Maybe it’s like putting a highlight on a painting.”

Which, admittedly, is the sort of thing that happens when you’re an artist and your brain insists on turning everything into a metaphor.

Parents do most of the painting.

They lay down the background, build the layers and spend years working on all the fiddly bits no one else will ever notice. They clean up the spills and the brushes, change the water and occasionally wonder what on earth has happened to the picture they thought they were painting.

They paint the base and the backbone of it.

And it is an ever-evolving painting with many, many layers. Sometimes it looks messy. Sometimes tiresome, frustrating and annoying. Sometimes you probably want to just walk away.

But mostly, you can see something amazing and promising taking shape.

And then there are the rest of us.

Sometimes we get handed the brush a lot. Sometimes only occasionally. Sometimes, perhaps, just once.

A teacher. A grandparent. An aunt or uncle. A neighbour. A coach. A friend’s mum or dad. Or simply an adult who happened to be there at exactly the right moment.

Do you have a memory from childhood like that?

Someone who dropped a little nugget of wisdom into your life. Someone who taught you something, encouraged you, showed you how to do something or said a few words that somehow stayed with you.

Maybe that’s what we’re doing when we take the time to teach someone else’s child.

We’re adding a highlight.

The painting would still exist without it, of course. But that little stroke of light adds something. It might create depth, illuminate something that was already there or draw attention to a part of the painting that hadn’t quite been noticed yet.

And it’s okay if some of your highlight gets painted over later.

Because that’s what happens with paintings made from many layers.

It’s still there.

It became part of what came next.

So take the opportunity to teach someone else’s child something when it presents itself. Show them how to paint, cook, plant a seed, use a tool, catch a fish, sew on a button, make something, fix something, or simply look at the world in a slightly different way.

You don’t need to paint the whole picture.

Sometimes you’re just there to add a highlight.

And that little bit of light might remain in the painting for the rest of their life.

So take the opportunity to paint a highlight in someone else’s painting