During my studies, I often heard about theories emphasizing the importance of parental care, the parent–child relationship, and love, and how this relationship forms the foundation for a child’s sense of self and understanding of the world. How the parental voice gradually becomes the child’s inner voice.
I was deeply touched by an experience in kindergarten, where, as a student, I also worked with children with special needs. In the group, I made sure that a boy on the autism spectrum was learning, socializing, and—as much as possible—also having fun.
I remember one morning at breakfast—chocolate spread. I felt relieved when I saw it on the menu because the boy was extremely picky with food and initially rejected almost everything that wasn’t a clear soup or some kind of sweet spread on bread. I knew this morning would be calm since we had avoided the first challenge—breakfast.
I watched him, noticing how sweet and well-groomed he was. I was touched by how caring his parents were; I had the impression that he was especially connected to his father. That morning, his father brought him in, and the boy remembered that he had forgotten to put on perfume. He said, “Dad, perfume.” The father took a small bottle from his jacket pocket, sprayed him twice, and guided him into the playroom.
Back to breakfast. The boy clearly enjoyed his food, as you could see from the traces of chocolate spread on his face. I offered him my hand, and we walked to the small sinks, above which mirrors were mounted. I helped him wash his face, and he looked at himself, smiled, and said, “How beautiful you are.”
I was filled with warmth and happiness. I affirmed him: “You really are beautiful.” I was happy for him and for his inner voice, for the image of himself he saw in that mirror at that moment. For the warm, gentle, loving parental voice that he was beginning to internalize.
