I watched her paddle out in the kayak all by herself. Prior to arriving at the boat launch at family camp that day, I assumed our girls would all be in canoes with an adult. But they wouldn’t. My oldest would insist that she could handle the kayak by herself. And handle it, she did. With each drop of the paddle into the water, she learned to navigate and steer her boat in the right direction.
How did she learn to do this so quickly? Mama didn’t teach her that. I was in college before I sat in a kayak for the first time, let alone figure out how to row toward a destination. She, only eight, had only excitement for the adventure awaiting her. Full of confidence, she made her way around a small island as we cheered her on from a canoe nearby and reminded her not to bump into her cousin’s kayak. She made her way back to the dock, and I was nothing short of amazed by her. They are capable of so much more than we think, I thought.
We moved on to the next part of our family camp weekend: the wall climb. Arriving there, the walls stand at a stiff ninety-degree angle. Children are expected to scale these walls and make it up multiple stories before being let back down to the safety of the same earth and ground their mama is standing on. They have helmets and safety equipment, sure, but how am I supposed to be confident that the trained employee belaying her won’t let my daughter drop? Surely, my 6-year-old will climb a few feet up, look at the ground below her, and decide she wants to come back down. After all, heights are to be feared, right?
But, with all of the grit and tenacity of a little girl filled with fire, she kept going. She tackled each step of the climbing wall until she got to a tire that was hard for her to climb over. But she kept trying. Attempting to swing her legs up and over, never giving up until she just flat ran out of energy. She pushed herself with fearless ambition to make it to the top. She didn’t make it all the way up, but I blame it on her short stature, which she inherited from her mama, not her determination. “They are capable of so much more than we think.”
Two instances back-to-back in the same weekend when my two oldest girls proved me wrong. They are capable of so much more than I think. I wanted to keep them under the safety of my wings, tucked in close to my sides. Because, after all, they’re still babies, right? And, last I checked, babies shouldn’t be rowing kayaks by themselves or climbing giant rock walls! Sorry for the yelling. It just seems . . . dangerous. Ya know? But, they didn’t see danger the way us mamas do. They saw a new adventure.
And as the days of end-of-summer family camp eventually fade into fall, I listen to my oldest tell me her business plan of raising money for her very own American Girl Doll and asking me if I know how to publish books. (Because she and her friends just casually started writing a historical fiction book in their spare time. A different breed, these girlies are). The dreams of this girl could rival the wonderful Miss Anne Shirley.
I’m a mama to three little girls, and they each have ideas and dreams that make me a little uncertain at times. But I don’t dare tell them they can’t do it. The world is their oyster and Mama is here to guide them to it. Instead, I’ll nudge them along in their hopes and dreams and say, “You, my dear, are capable of so much more than you think.”
by Shana Kim Smith 
by Brea Schmidt 
