Despite my advice to choose a smaller puzzle, Sia insisted on this one. It quickly became her favorite. She set up a special table in her room to work on it. Initially, it didn't seem like an insurmountable task, but creating the border alone took several days.
Sia spent her weekends and school breaks painstakingly placing each piece. We, as her parents, ensured she balanced this with her schoolwork and other responsibilities. Over weeks and months, we watched as the puzzle slowly took shape. Even with over a thousand pieces still scattered, Sia's determination never wavered.
Her patience was impressive. While I might have given up out of frustration, Sia persevered. Occasionally, pieces would fall to the floor, and retrieving them was crucial.
Nearly a year had passed, and the image of the golden retriever with its beautiful eyes was almost complete. Sia had just finished her Year 9 term exams, and her vacation plan was to complete the puzzle. She spent long hours sorting and strategizing. Sometimes, Shilpa or I would help by separating pieces according to their colors, but Sia never asked us to finish the puzzle for her.
Whenever I entered her room, my curiosity got the better of me. I would try to place a few pieces, though it was never easy. The number of free pieces dwindled, and the puzzle’s true image began to emerge. With about 100-150 pieces left, Sia’s excitement grew. She was focused on completing the puzzle, eager to experience the satisfaction of finishing it.
Then came today. Sia was revising math with her tutor in the living room when I entered her room to replace the lamp. My eyes fell on the nearly complete puzzle. Only about 25 pieces remained. My hands itched to place those last pieces. What began as casual curiosity turned into an intense desire to finish the puzzle myself.
I sat down and, piece by piece, completed the puzzle in about 25-30 minutes. The dog’s image was now fully revealed. I felt proud, imagining Sia’s delight at my assistance. I decided not to tell her immediately, wanting it to be a surprise.
An hour later, Sia walked into her room. She saw the completed puzzle and knew I had placed the remaining pieces. Instead of being pleased, she was sad. "I wanted to finish it. Why did you do it?" she asked.In that moment, I realized my mistake. Sia had spent months working on this puzzle, only for me to complete the final pieces and steal her moment of triumph. I had deprived her of the satisfaction of placing those last pieces, the joy of finishing what she had started.She didn’t show much emotion, but I sensed her disappointment. All this time, we had taught her to finish what she started, and I had taken that chance away from her.
I couldn’t undo what I had done, but I learned a valuable lesson. Perhaps to make up for it, I should buy her another puzzle. This time, it will be far less than 1600 pieces. 😀
