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Learning to wait There was an understood rule in our home around Christmas when I was a child: “No peeking!” Without question I honored the unwritten code. That is, with one regrettable exception. Friends at school began talking about the goodies to be found inside Mom’s or Dad’s bedroom closet. I had never thought of that before. “What secrets might be waiting for me?” I wondered. I listened to their tales of wonder and discovery. I peeked. To my delight, I found a handmade dollhouse! Two large crates were attached side-to-side and divided into four rooms. Each room was carefully carpeted and decorated. It was truly a labor of love from my mother. With curiosity now satisfied, I carefully closed the closet door and tiptoed out and down the hall. I felt pretty good about pulling that one off until Mother asked, “Well, how did you like it?” I felt sick. There would be no surprise on Christmas morning. In that single instant, my friends’ promptings and promises fell empty. I had believed the lie that breaking a trust didn’t matter. I never peeked again. Pamela Bryan
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