For four days, my boys have been sharing their toys. Without a word from loving husband or me.
When these fine fine young gentlemen have opened multi-piece packs, say a track with several Hot Wheels, they chose which parts--cars, guys, swords--to give to their brothers. Not to play-with-for-now, or give-and-take-back. Give.
"That's mine," has almost always been followed by, "But you can try it when I'm done," or "Do you want a turn?"
I hear a fine young gent reply "Sure, you can have a turn!" or "In a minute I'll be done, then you can try" to a request of "Can I have a turn?"
They're generous with their time, too. "Want to play a game?" or "Will you help me?" has been followed by "Sure!"
Not every single time. After all, they're not perfect. Sometimes they're loud, or naughty, or cross. Sometimes they're even selfish. No one wants to share every thing, always, nor should they be expected to do so. But they're working it out peacefully together.
The desire of my heart for my young gents is that they grow up to love and treasure one another, to share good things and to speak words of peace and kindness. I am raising them not to be perfect in this moment, but to be fine gentle men who speak and live peace. I can see them growing loving hearts. Life is good.