Diwali, the Indian festival of lights, was celebrated on Saturday. My children came home from school last week with decorated candles, and early that evening, we headed to our favorite Indian restaurant.

While eating dinner, we discussed how many Indian children attended my girls' school (a very significant number), and who was celebrating Diwali with their families that night. My 7-year old declared that she was so glad to be an Indian just like all of her friends. I then said, "Well, you are Indian, but you are only one-quarter Indian. You have many other parts to you, too."

As soon as the statement came out of my mouth, I realized that I had hurt her feelings. My daughter looked crestfallen by my pronouncement. I had robbed her of the innocent, unfettered joy one feels when belonging to a group. Of being the same as her peers. I had intended to point out her diverse heritage, but instead subtracted from her sense of self.

I tried to backpedal. "But your spirit is 100% Indian. Your Indianness is just as much a part of your soul as anyone else."

Thankfully, my daughter's warm enthusiasm returned. And in that moment, I realized that it's time for me to let my little girl define herself how she wants. She is getting older, growing apart from me, and discovering her own truths. This is a reality that stuns me.

But this conversation also reminded me what Diwali is really about: not just literal lights (fireworks, candles), but one's inner light -- the understanding that there is something beyond our physical bodies. The celebration of spirit.

When the skies turned black, we took the girls to the Diwali ceremonies at a local Hindu temple. There were roman candles shooting off outside, and the girls took turns cutting through the air with sparklers in the below freezing temperatures, dancing and twirling among torches fighting the wind to stay lit.

It was a wonderful evening, this celebration of light, this celebration of who my children are.

shestartedit

Skirtsetter

Recovering Attorney/ Writer/ Mother to 3 Young Girls

I live in the Atlanta area with my husband and three girls, all of whom like to start trouble. My essays have appeared in print and online publications including skirt!, Ca...