Mrs. Cynthia has been with me since I was a kid. She always brings me something to eat. I usually start smiling when I look at her. We became close friends. We usually start sharing everything that happened today. All the stories she shared with me and I shared with her, we both pray for each other. I finished writing most of my book there, and through it all, she had to refill my coffee and comfort me when I was upset.
But my daughter loves her more than me. My daughter’s name was Holland. She celebrated her birthdays at Waffle House, and now Mrs. Cynthia knows exactly what Holland wants before we even get out of the car: crispy bacon, a waffle, and chocolate chips. For years, the staff would play Let It Go from the Frozen movie whenever we arrived, and everyone, including Mrs. Cynthia, would always dance and sing with Holland. I love that part of my life. This made me so happy, and life was going so well.
This year, Holland told me that she was “too old “and had not been active since she was young, so now she can’t dance. I could tell it hurt Mrs. Cynthia’s heart and mine. Their bond was beautiful and strong, but things with kids were difficult. As they age, they ask questions that parents sometimes do not know how and what to answer.
While Mrs. Cynthia was helping another customer one day, Holland watched her closely. I could feel that something was on her mind. When Mrs. Cynthia returned, Holland suddenly questioned her. My heart stopped when Holley asked Mrs. Cynthia why her skin tone was so dark. I knew that it could be a race topic, but she answered with such pure curiosity.
I wanted to stop this conversation, but I couldn’t. Mrs. Cynthia didn’t hesitate. She picked up my daughter and said God had made everyone unique and different. Isn’t it a great thing everyone has their features? Holland smiled and agreed. Then she added, “If I had your skin, we could dress up as Tiana. Mrs. Cynthia laughed and said, “You can be Tiana whenever you want, sweetie.” And that was it. Just like that, the conversation ended.
Later, I started reading people’s comments on race, and some of them started arguing about racism, which was really strange for me. I saw many of them discussing skin tone. At first, I thought I understood this idea; I had even said it myself. But I realized something important about the conversation between Holland and Mrs. Cynthia.
My three-year-old recognizes the differences in people’s skin color. We shouldn’t teach our children that there is no difference and that it shouldn’t be ignored but must appreciated. We should teach them to value what makes people unique. Race, nationalism, and faith are more beautiful, and we should discuss them.
My daughter’s question wasn’t something to fear , and staying silent out of worry didn’t help anything. Mrs. Cynthia showed me the right way to approach these tough topics. She reminded me that God makes everyone beautiful.
So, moving forward, I will not silence my kids when they ask about the world around them. I will encourage their questions and share the clear and meaningful truth: everyone is beautifully unique and different. Accept your own beauty, and love yourself.
