Just before Labor Day, Lily and her whole extended family made a visit to her preschool to get acquainted with teachers and other families and new friends. At the event, billed as an “Ice Cream Social,” the children spent most of their time exploirng the large, friendly country playground that gives these three- and four-year-olds terrific space and lots of climbing, digging, and swinging opportunities within a safely fenced backyard to the school. The adults gathered in small clusters, getting introduced to returning parents and staff as they kept watchful eyes on their children about to step out into the independence of their new school in the coming week.

Lily found a metal ladder and some parallel bars, just in reach over her head. Another girl her age was holding onto a bar with both hands and swinging a little, knees bent, feet dragging in the dirt. Lily reached for a bar. “I’m Lily’s Papa,” I said to the little girl. Then, turning to Lily, I asked,  ”Lily, what class are you in?”

“Morning Glories,” Lily said.

“I’m Morning Glories, too,” said the other girl.

“We could be friends,” Lily said, scuffing the dirt with her shoes, swinging, knees bent.

At home, Lily’s mom reported that after the first day of preschool, Lily said “the friends” hadn’t wanted to play with her. Her mom inquired if she had asked anyone to play something.  It seemed probably not, something later confirmed by the teacher, who noted that the children began with somewhat parallel play, such as that on the playground bars. Heading to the second day of preschool, Lily announced, “I’m going to play with ‘the friends’ today.” Clearly, she had a new mental strategy for the day ahead!

Lily turns four on the tenth of the month. Like most children, when asked how old she will be on her birthday, she holds up four fingers without speaking, being careful to fold in her thumb. Recently, she asked me if I was old. When I replied in the affirmative, she asked me how old. I said sixty-seven. She then asked, “How old is that?” It was time for me to hold up many fingers, many times, without talking. Her eyes got wide. She moved on to something else.

As I look at early four-year-old growth patterns, I am struck by how Lily fits those patterns, with her need for lots of physical activity, as if her body does her thinking for her . . . dancing, jumping, running her way exuberantly from one activity to another.

I also am in awe of the power of imagination in Lily’s life and how this is a benchmark of the age. Because of this, I am also keenly aware of the importance of exposing young four-year-old children to a rich array of stories, poems, songs, and the silly stories we can make up with them in addition to the TV, DVD, and other electronic stimulation they are bound to be fed . . . all food for dreams from the vibrant imagination of the four-year-old.