When my older daughter, Zia, was little, our house was always filled with therapists. They came to “play” with her, building towers, singing songs, and cheering her progress. To anyone else, it might have looked joyful. In the background, my younger daughter, Keiko, quietly tried to join in. Sometimes, I gently reminded her to give the therapists space so they could focus on Zia’s session.
One afternoon, when Keiko was finally able to express herself in full sentences, she looked at me with teary eyes and asked in frustration, “When will anyone ever play with me?”
Her words cut through the noise of therapy toys and professional chatter.
I realised that while Zia’s needs were visible, Keiko’s longing for attention was invisible. The imbalance wasn’t intentional, yet it was deeply felt.
Parenting in a family touched by disability and/or chronic illnesses often means juggling impossible scales (time, energy, emotions) and someone will always seem to get less. Gratitude, in those moments, can feel out of reach. But it’s also what helps us see what’s still beautiful amid the hard.
Seeing Gratitude Differently
Research in child psychology reminds us that gratitude is not just about saying thank you. It is about noticing the good that exists alongside the hard.
For children, gratitude is learned by watching how we respond to daily life. When we name what we appreciate, even in small ways, children begin to notice good things too.
There were days when I felt too tired to model thankfulness. But I realised that when parents intentionally express gratitude, it helps children see life as more than a list of challenges. Gratitude becomes a language of perspective, not perfection.
💜 SideBySideSibs Tip: You don’t need elaborate plans to rebuild connection. Start with one intentional moment today.
Ask, “What made you smile today?” and listen without fixing or comparing. Let that be enough.
Our Family’s Gratitude Tree
After that day, we started a “gratitude tree.”
We drew a bare tree on our wall and cut out paper leaves. Whenever any of us felt thankful, even for something tiny, we wrote it on a leaf and taped it to the branches.
Some days, Keiko wrote, “I’m thankful Zia played with me.”
Other days, I wrote, “I’m thankful for five quiet minutes with tea.”
As the tree grew, so did our awareness. It became a visible reminder that gratitude doesn’t erase hardship: it balances it. Keiko began to look for moments to add leaves herself, learning that she could still find joy even when life felt unfair. We had long since took down the tree, but I found something quite similar on the internet to help you visualise it. Thinking back, maybe we should put the tree back up again :).
What You Can Try Today
You don’t need to create a tree. Start small:
At dinner, ask each person to share one thing they’re thankful for today.
- Keep a “gratitude jar” on the kitchen bench, drop in a note whenever someone names something good.
- Or simply say out loud, “I’m grateful we’re together right now.”
The point isn’t to force gratitude but to notice it. Together.
Over time, those small recognitions become the roots of resilience. Gratitude reminds our children (and ourselves) that love and joy can coexist with exhaustion and imperfection.
Closing Reflection
Teaching gratitude when life feels unfair isn’t about making everything even. It’s about making everything seen.
It’s the small act of saying, “I notice this, too.”
And in that noticing, we help every child – the one who receives care and the one who quietly waits – feel equally cherished.
