W’s Story from matrix kids family 

Hello everyone. This is W from our beloved Matrix Kids Family. This is a true story, and I hope it is inspiring, especially for families with kids.

I was a junior university student about to graduate from law school. The school required every undergraduate to complete a full-time internship lasting 3 to 6 months. I was assigned to the Family Law Division of a local courthouse, where my primary role was to assist a judge specializing in family disputes by taking court notes and serving as a part-time clerk.

Honestly, I felt law school wasn’t a good fit for me. I was a young woman in denim skirts who often skipped classes to write novels, watch movies, play music, and daydream about saving the world. It was the first time I had to sit in a courtroom all day, morning to night. There were 7 or 8 court trials every day, and I had to sit upright, wear a court uniform, and pretend to be mature.

The female judge, who was around 50, had brown hair. She appeared delicate but had a gentle yet firm voice. Graduating required completing this internship, and there was no way around it. So, I sat there, typing on the keyboard while occasionally scratching my head. In my early 20s, I didn’t know much about men, especially married middle-aged men.

There were cases of domestic violence and assault, with dozens of family members appearing in court, sometimes resorting to physical altercations right in front of the judge. The judicial police had to intervene 18 times during one court trial, and once, a couple argued for an entire hour over a broken refrigerator.

I was both a spectator and a participant, typing court trial records word by word. Most of the time, they were just strange names on paper with no connection to me.

However, one moment completely changed me. During a trial’s pre-trial mediation, a young couple exchanged harsh words. It seemed as if their wedding vows meant nothing. There was a little girl, about four years old (though I couldn’t be sure of her age, but she looked to be a preschooler). The astonishment and fear in her eyes at that moment shook me to my core. She had never experienced love, and her gaze saw through everything—the depth of the situation, her own helplessness, and her longing. She desired her parents’ love but was helpless in reconciling them.

The judge realized the conversation was unsuitable for a child and gave me a look, asking me to take the child out of the courtroom. I obediently led her out; outside the court was a quiet hall. It was early in the morning, and there were few people around. I held her hand, and we walked slowly. After a few minutes, she wasn’t afraid of me and continued following.

To ease the awkwardness, I reached into the pocket of my uniform with my right hand. There was candy in it! Although my academic performance wasn’t stellar, I was an expert at discreetly eating candy and snacks during class. I unwrapped the candy and handed it to the little girl. We sat on a bench in the hall, holding hands as we did.

It was quiet.

It felt as if there were no arguments in the world, just a few moments of peace. Even after half a year of interning, I still had reservations about getting married and having children. In this complex and sometimes senseless world, protecting children’s hearts becomes the mission of all early childhood education practitioners. The judge was watching her, and I, too, was probably trying to protect her. All early childhood education practitioners, psychiatrists, family law attorneys, family reconciliation community workers, kindergarten teachers, and more work together to build a complete system.

Our goal and mission are to help children all around the world build whole, bright, and loving hearts.

So, thanks to that little girl. She gave me something invaluable.

That something is courage.