It was at a playground when I first realised we're in New Zealand. I'd taken my eldest to Takapuna beach playground—she was so bored without her sisters. There stood equipment you'd rarely see in Korea: rope jungle gyms soaring to dizzying heights, giant wooden hamster wheels, all without a single safety mat.
While watching my daughter play, a girl about three or four climbed onto the rope ladder nearby. Her mother stood close, just encouraging her. I found myself sweating, witnessing this stranger's child's challenge. Finally, the girl reached the top of that rope ladder, well over two meters high. If my youngest had been up there, could I have just watched? That small child's courage stayed with me longer than the stunning beach and ocean sprawling beside the playground.
She wasn't the only one exploring this new world freely. Toddlers barely walking wore chest-high waterproof overalls, crawling around playgrounds. Barefoot young children climbed tall trees around parks.
Thankfully, our kids adapted quickly. They scaled equipment fearlessly, soaring without fear. My eldest's palms blistered from the first term, swinging across monkey bars. They burst and healed repeatedly until, by term 3, tough calluses formed. The kids now run around barefoot like it's nothing.
