text: At one point in my childhood, my grandfather gifted me with, what my 9 year old self considered to be, the coolest watch I’d ever seen. It had a delicate leather strap that had been embossed with little bees, and the face had Winnie the Pooh with a bee about to land on his nose. I wasn’t a particularly big fan of Winnie the Pooh, but what really made it unique and exciting was the fact that in lieu of a seconds hand, it had a disk that was painted with a string of bees that rotated as the minutes passed, flying their way forever around the face of my watch. Something about it just captured my imagination, and I loved it. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t have it for very long. One day, I wore it to school when I was in the 3rd grade. We had been painting that day and were transitioning to another subject, so I went to the back of the room to wash my hands. I remember so vividly removing the watch and laying it gently to the side of the sink so that it would not get wet, taking the time to even stretch out the band so that it laid flat, and face up so as not to scratch it. When I had finished washing my hands there was a line of other students behind me, so I quickly grabbed some paper towels and dried my hands then returned to my seat, forgetting all about my watch. By a few hours later, I realized what I had done and quickly went back to the sink to retrieve my possession. Only to find that it was not there. I checked the floor and peered into the trash, then around at my fellow classmates. I was at a loss. What should I do? You see, as a child I often felt invalidated, or unimportant. I was a middle of the radar type kid, keep quiet and do your work, don’t get called on and don’t get in trouble. Because of these feelings I never spoke up, I never told the teacher or asked anyone. It would have put me in the spotlight that I tried very desperately to avoid. I chalked it up as a loss as I sat back at my desk and sulked for the remainder of the day, thinking of what I would say when my grandfather asked me why I wasn’t wearing my watch. About a week later I saw one of my classmates in the back of the room washing her hands. She was one of the “cool” girls, always perfect homework and handwriting, the one who seems to be friendly with everyone except me, and she was wearing my watch. But what could I say? Who would believe me? I even noticed that she had managed to get a bit of green marker on the band. My heart dropped as I watched and silently said goodbye to my gift. Fast forward two decades, and I have my own little 9 year old running off to the third grade every day. Recently he purchased his own digital watch from target, with his own money. It was a proud moment. A few months ago, we realized that the watch was missing, my son said he wasn’t sure where it was and that he may have lost it. My husband and I scolded him that we must keep track of our belongings, then chalked it up as a loss. Today I received a phone call from my son’s vice principal, she says that my son had confronted another student about a watch that he thought was his but had lost. She asked that I describe the watch to her, and when I did, she confirmed that yes it appeared to be the watch in question. She’s waiting to hear back from the other student’s parents whether they can confirm the purchase of the watch or not. Regardless of what the other parent says, I’m proud of my boy. He felt that he was wronged, so he took action and stood up for himself. Somehow, twenty years later, I was able to instill a value into my son that I still struggle with today. I still remember that girls name, her face, and the jealousy I felt that day as I sat at my desk while she washed her hands wearing something I had once treasured. I can never go back to fix that, but at least my son won’t have the same regret.