I took her hand gently, “I understand. New things can be scary. Sometimes we cry a bit when we feel scared. You know, sometimes I feel scared about new things too and I want to cry. But then I remember that new things can also be fun. I heard them talking about a game inside, and I know you like games. So let me give you a quick hug. We can walk to the door together, but then I have to leave.“

In many parenting books, this story would end withLydiahappily entering the classroom with her teacher as a successful example of “high EQ parenting”. But this is a story from real life, and real life is never as simple as it seems in textbook cases. Lydiaand I walked to the door together, where her smiling teacher was patiently waiting for her. I said goodbye, but she did not happily enter the classroom. She started screaming. Loudly screaming. People were staring and I was right back on that bridge between knowledge and real-life application, except this time I wanted to jump off! Echoes of “Nooooooo! Mom! Noooooo!” ricocheted off the walls. Her teacher looked panicked. What should I do? “Mom!!!!!!!” Ultimately, I did what I have advised so many other mothers to do over the years. I put on a smile, said, “I love you. I will see you later. Have fun!” Then I turned and walked away. Her wails followed me down the hall. I told myself that I had given her a chance to express her fears. I reassured her that those feelings are normal. Now it was time for me to leave so she could move on to the second half of our conversation and experience the fun part of facing new things.

Unfortunately, what my head knew and my heart felt were two different things. My youngest daughter, my baby was crying for me. Maybe her Chinese isn’t good enough to communicate with the teacher, maybe the teacher is inexperienced, maybe changing schools in the middle of the year is too hard for her to handle…she is only 5 after all. I worried the whole way home. Shortly afterward, I received a text message fromLydia’s teacher with a photo of her happily reading with other children in the book corner. I let out sigh of relief.

I had made it across…but certainly not without a struggle. But this struggle, the challenge of letting go, the realization that what others think of our child’s crying in the short term is not as important as doing the right thing for the long term, are all valuable lessons because they ultimately prepare us to make it across the longest and most important bridge of all;the bridge that leads children out of our lives and into happy, healthy lives of their own.

Kim Lee is a writer and teacher specializing in family education. She lives in Beijing with her three daughters.