It all started with the smallest thing: it all started with ants. It also started with the fact that literally every day, almost from the day Darusia was born, I have paid and still pay a lot of attention to all living things. It was methodical: I wanted to give my child the opportunity to observe the world, not just consume it in a hurry. So before she could even walk well, Darusia was already tracking ants, leaning on the trunk of our old apple tree for safety.

At first, we watched together as the hard-working ant was eagerly carrying something to its home or simply fleeing from danger into the deep cracks of the thirsty ground, and then Darusia would hover over those cracks day after day without me to see at least one more.

We would admire when we were lucky enough to see ants in the mating season in late spring, with wings! That’s how I explained the miracle: they were brides. To tell you the truth, I didn’t know those facts about ant life until I had to explain it. I had to learn!

Darusia at the age of one (or even two) actually had no idea who brides were or that even ants could be brides, but never mind. As since then, and even at the age of five, she has been fascinated by the fuss of any ant swarm. Even without wings. And when we come across the winged ones once in a while, Darusia says that they are brides, mum. That’s how she explains it! And she still follows the ants — she moves her finger in front of them as if drawing a path.

She used to love it just as much when an ant climbed up her arm or down her leg. In those moments, however, I had to make sure that no one nearby lamented and shouted ‘Oh, my God’ to the child, actually instilling perhaps the greatest fear. I could not allow someone to so categorically destroy the trust in the world with which a child comes to know it and thanks to which she can feel its fullness now and always afterwards. This trust is so easy to frighten away! And parents have the ultimate power to control it — to support it or vice versa.

I must admit that it was a great effort for me not to rush to the child and immediately sweep that ant off her hand! No, no. You just have to be careful, daughter, just don’t make any sudden movements.

And then, receiving her mother’s approval, Dara literally froze, staring at the ant, falling in love with each of them. She looked at me to see if I was also fascinated, and then looked at the ants again; at me — at the ants; at me — and then quickly back at them, so as not to lose sight of them. She silently showed me with her index finger to keep silent and watched them climb again.

And later there were worms, snails, crickets, May beetles, frogs, fish, every bird, chicken or squirrel — it didn’t matter: absolutely every animal that Darusia had ever seen. Meanwhile, I just had to feed her curiosity. It’s not very difficult! But it is work. And as a result, there were even bees that tickled with their golden wings. Then I was already protesting! But Darusia finally told me to calm down and just not to wave my hands too much. Then it worked. Yes, to be fair, it doesn’t always work, but Darusia and I know that nothing bites, pecks or scratches just like that, so we don’t get angry with the animals. Оh! It happened, the child used to regularly come to Mrs mouse’s hole to ask how it was doing, even though I am terrified of rodents myself!

I can hardly even pick up a slug. Let alone a frog in my palm! But every time Darusia is willing to do this, I turn off my prejudices (if it’s safe) and then turn on her trust. Or should I say mine? I had it once, too.

For reasons of common sense, I explain that it is better not to take an unknown beetle for the sake of your safety and the safety of the unknown beetle, but also not to do it any harm. We have no right, just as we have no right to kill. And today Darusia is already asking why if you kill a person, you go to prison, but if you kill an animal, you don’t.

We have to pet the cat gently and peacefully so that it doesn’t hurt sometimes. You can feel pain, can’t you? Animals can, too, daughter. And you cannot grab the tail even out of great love, because even out of great love you can hurt them. Who better than parents to know this?

Until recently, Darusia dreamed of going to the circus — it was so interesting! She had been to the theatre twenty times, but never to the circus. And there is light music, acrobats, and bears walking on ropes, wow! I had to explain that animals are trained during rehearsals, which is cruel, unpleasant and painful; they, being hungry, are forced to do things that are completely unnatural for them for food for the entertainment of people who then sit in the stands and enjoy this violence. Do we want to be among those who sit in the stands? No? So we must refuse. We cannot and will not support this either with our presence or money.

If you don’t know the background, this universal Darusia’s love for animals may seem like some kind of unique innate gift on the Instagram reels. And it would be convenient to think so, but the truth is that one is not born with this knowledge. No value comes out of nowhere, not a single one. Any value has to be formed — and I am here to do it as a mother. And also to guide them gently through life, without projecting my fears or imposing categorical views. 

For instance, I am less sceptical that Darusia, with her already-formed empathy, could potentially refuse to eat meat, poultry and fish. We are a traditional Galician family with a certain cult of food. None of us are vegan or vegetarian yet, but at the age of five, the child explains out of love that she will not eat a rabbit because the rabbit wants to live. And the fish? And the fish must swim, of course, mum! And, anticipating your question: I’m not going to force her to do that.

And yesterday, when we were leaving kindergarten, the mother rushed to catch a butterfly for her children in the grass, but instead of being happy, Darusia started crying a lot, until I convincingly assured her that I would never do that again, honestly!

I was so ashamed.

I don’t think anyone in my life has taught me more than my children.

 

Yulia’s photo was taken by Halyna Kuchmanych