Veíamos en un apunte anterior la lista de tareas que Thomas Jefferson aconsejaba a su hija Patsy de 11 años en 1783. La extrañeza que produce leerla arroja una sospecha sobre nuestra manera de hacer las cosas: ¿No estaremos empeñándonos en infantilizar la infancia? Veamos ahora otro ejemplo: la carta que William James escribe a su hija de 8 años, Peggy, el 19 de junio de 1895. Aquí lo sorprendente es el lenguaje mismo del padre:
Sweet Peg.
I am very happy here, and fear that you may already have gone up to Chocorua with your Mamma. Yesterday a beautiful humming bird came into the library and spent two hours without resting, trying to find his way out by the skylight in the ceiling. You never saw such untiring strength. Filled with pity for his fatigue, I went into the garden and culled a beautiful rose. The moment I held it up in my hand under the skylight, the angelic bird flew down into it and rested there as in a nest — the beautifullest sight you ever saw.
Your loving
Dad