When my daughter was 6, she thoughtfully picked out a dragonfly necklace for me on a special outing with her Nana. When I received it, I thanked her with a hug, then tucked it away somewhere safe.

One day, a few months later, she quietly said, “Mom… I noticed you’re not wearing the necklace I gave you. ”I smiled, gave her a quick excuse, something about being busy or saving it for a special day, and moved on.

But later that week, she said it again. She was still waiting for something I hadn’t yet offered. “I do love it,” I told her. “I wear it sometimes. ”But she wouldn’t let it go. And something in her tone made me pause. Something told me: this matters.

Then, I remembered that communication framework I had learned at work. One that is meant to help teach adults how to share their feelings effectively, instead of side-stepping the truth. So, we pulled out four small pieces of paper, wrote the words out, and laid them in a grid on the floor: See. Think. Feel. Need.

As we stepped onto them together, her true feelings slowly came apparent. As we stood on the first paper, she said: “I see you don’t wear the necklace I gave you. ”She stepped to the next: “I think it isn’t important to you… ”And then — when we reached “feel” — she couldn’t speak. Her little body folded into tears, and she melted into my lap. We sat on the couch, holding each other in quiet for a while. Eventually, she whispered: “When you don’t wear it, I feel hurt. Sad. Like I’m not important to you. ”That moment has stayed with me ever since. She wasn’t just upset about a necklace. She was trying to understand something about love, about worth, about whether what she gives matters.

And I almost missed it.