My six-year-old granddaughter apologized for everything—even dropping a fork. When she whispered, “If I say sorry fast enough, sometimes Brock won’t make me stand in the closet,” I realized this wasn’t good manners… it was fear.
The first time I noticed it, I smiled. Ruby had spilled a handful of crayons across my kitchen floor. Before I could even stand up to help, she whispered, “I’m …
My six-year-old granddaughter apologized for everything—even dropping a fork. When she whispered, “If I say sorry fast enough, sometimes Brock won’t make me stand in the closet,” I realized this wasn’t good manners… it was fear. Read More
