Someone advocates that it is very important to praise a child - to establish his strong self-esteem. Others warn about the dangers of praise, saying it makes the growing child dependent on external approval. I am convinced that in such formulations this is an empty dispute. It’s the same as asking: “To breathe or not to breathe?” We all breathe. And we all praise our own children and not only them. It seems to me that how we do it is more important, so I suggest we talk to you about praise. The story I want to share has probably been heard by all my patients. It's fantastic because it takes place in parallel realities. So, let's imagine... *** Once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away, in one of the many universes, there lived a six-year-old boy and, of course, he drew something while sitting in his room. Having finished his work, with visible impatience and enthusiasm, he grabbed his drawing and ran, taking it to his grandmother in the next room. - Look, grandma, I drew it! - Oh! What do you have? Hippopotamus!? – exclaimed the not yet elderly woman. “No,” the boy frowned a little: “It’s a giraffe.” - Giraffe?! – the woman clasped her hands, “Wow!” How did you achieve such a miracle!? Marvelous! What a wonderful giraffe you made! Wow! My grandson is an artist. You turned out amazing. I am so proud of you! The boy's slightly dissatisfied squint smoothed out and he began to smile. And grandma went to the chest of drawers, took out a frame from the bottom drawer, which was a little dusty from time to time... - Let's put your masterpiece in this frame and hang it in the kitchen. No! Better in the living room. The woman did what she said and left the room with her grandson. On the chest of drawers there remained a standard piece of paper in ZY-8 format (well, these are the formats in that galaxy): First Degree Diploma - to the winner of the Rolan cookery competition. (I really don’t know anything about paper formats in that universe, or about the Rolan culture there, but I’m sure she cooks very well, no matter what she cooks there.) And at this time, somewhere in a parallel universe, the same six-year-old the boy, revealing all his delight and love, ran up to his father and said: “Look, dad, I drew it.” - Hm. What do you have here? - This is a giraffe. The father took the drawing and sat down on the sofa: - Yes, yes. Let's look at your giraffe. The man studied the drawing for some time. - Listen, son. Well, where have you seen such giraffes? Real giraffes have longer necks and completely different hooves. And most importantly, a giraffe cannot have a skin with blue spots. These spots are brown, understand. Ko-rich-not-you-e! The boy slouched, continued to look at his father, who took a deep breath, intending to continue his speech. But suddenly, the man seemed to stumble. He exhaled. (It’s only me, as the author, who knows that just the day before he read the book by Bluma Yakovlevna Gippenraiden, well-known in women’s circles.) - Okay, son. Well done. I see that you tried. You will continue to do better and better. The father handed the drawing to the child. The boy walked out of the living room into the hallway. He stood there for a minute. He crumpled the piece of paper into a ball and threw it at the cat, who was lounging on the bench. The cat did not understand his anger and despair and began to chase the paper ball across the floor like a toy. The boy smiled and straightened his shoulders. At the same time (the idea of ​​the multiverse allows us to imagine this), a mother was talking to her six-year-old son. Reader, you do understand that we are talking about the same boy, right? -Have you brought your drawing to show me? I'm interested, let's take a look. What did you draw? “This is a giraffe, mom,” the boy said hesitantly. Mom’s voice was firm and calm: “This is the giraffe you drew.” I noticed you were in your room drawing. Pretty long. This activity seems to have fascinated you. You've got a drawing. It seems you liked him yourself. You wanted to show it to me. I'm pleased. You share with me what you can do. Let me take a closer look. Yes. I like your giraffe. You drew his torso and legs with those hooves. Did not forget.