Even childhood anxiety gets a bi-cultural spin
Each morning before my children leave for school, they stop their chattering long enough to ask me to “cross my fingers” and “hold my thumbs” for them while we’re apart. Anna, the oldest, initiates the request and the boys chime in. You might think they wouldn’t need to ask. They should know that I’m rooting for them to do their best and to experience good fortune throughout their day. I’m their mother. I guess they want to hear it out loud. In both native languages.