Anyone who has spent any amount of time with my daughter knows that Mercy is HIGHLY particular about colors. From a very young age she loved pink, and at some point early on she developed a strong sense of what she calls “girl colors” and “boy colors”. And she is ADAMANT about colors being appropriate or correct. I think I am to blame for some of her neurosis. When each of the babies were born, they received a special blanket lovingly knit by their Grammaline. Mercy’s blanket is ivory in color; Aaron’s is blue; Elijah’s is green. At some point I began making a big deal about their respective “colors” like, “Oh look, there’s a blue car. That’s Aaron’s car because it’s blue!” or “Elijah gets the green ball because he loves green!” And from that, each child has developed a strong sense that they have a color that is particularly theirs.
And while Mercy’s blanket is white, she has always claimed pink as her color, so anytime we would see a pink house (which you do surprisingly often in L.A.), Mercy would shout: “It’s a pink house! It’s MY house!”; or when my sister would try to set the table with her set of little Ikea plastic dishes, the world would just about end if the pink cup went to someone other than my daughter (my sister actually got to the point where she just wouldn’t use any of the pink dishes if Mercy was there because of the potential for drama).
Recently, Mercy has expanded her color affiliations to include purple and sometimes red (okay, typing that last sentence made me laugh at the realization that my little South Central girl has grown up understanding that everyone has “colors”). I have been glad to see the pink obsession die down a bit, and I regularly talk about other colors that I love or that are beautiful to encourage this.
Last night Mercy attended her second week of Pioneer Clubs at our new church. We got home kind of late and her brothers were already in bed so she and I did the bedtime routine alone. As we were getting jammies on and teeth brushed, Mercy stopped and said to me:
“Mommy, I like brown now.”
I was VERY surprised by this as brown has always been a “boy color” and never a favorite.
“Mercy, that’s wonderful!” I responded. “Why do you like brown now?”
“Because it’s the color of the Holy Spirit.”
“Really!” I replied. “That’s great, Mercy. I love brown too.”
She went on to explain something about God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit having brown flesh. I am DYING to know what went on in her classroom last night.