“Parents today want their kids spending time on things that can bring them success, but ironically, we’ve stopped doing one thing that’s actually been a proven predictor of success—and that’s household chores.” says Richard Rende, a developmental psychologist in Paradise Valley, Ariz., and co-author of the forthcoming book “raising Can-Do Kids”. Decades of studies show the benefits of chores--academically, emotionally and professionally.

Giving children household chores at an early age helps to build a lasting sense of mastery, responsibility and independence, according to research by Marty Rossmann, professor at the University of Minnesota. In 2002, Dr. Rossmann analyzed data from a longitudinal(纵向的) study that followed 84 children across four periods in their lives--in preschool around ages 10 and 15, and in their mid-20s. She found that young adults who began chores at ages 3 and 4 were more likely to have good relationships with family and friends and to achieve academic and early career success and to be self-sufficient, as compared with those who didn’t have chores or who started them as teens.

Chores also teach children how to be empathetic and responsive to others’ needs, notes psychologist Richard Weissbourd. In research, his team surveyed 10,000 high-school students and asked them to rank what they treasured more: achievement, happiness or caring for others. Almost 80% chose either achievement or happiness over caring for others. As he points out, however, research suggests that personal happiness comes most reliably not from high achievement but from strong relationships. “We’re out of balance,” says Dr. Weissbourd. A good way to start re-adjusting priorities, he suggests, is by learning to be kind and helpful at home.

The next time that your child asks to skip chores to do homework, resist the urge to let him or her off the hook. Being slack(懈怠的) about chores when they compete with school sends your child the message that grades and achievement are more important than caring about others. What may seem like small messages in the moment add up to big ones over time.

With a broad smile on her lips, 15-year-old Sirin rushed to her mom to show off her new painting. But mom raised her eyebrows with eyes wide open, and spoke in an impatient tone, “No time, baby. Right now I am busy with an important talk. Just wait for some time, OK?”

Holding her oil painting, she frowned (皱眉), and then searched for her dad.

“Dad, see what I have done,” Sirin announced aloud in an exciting voice. Her dad turned around while adjusting his tie, grinned at her, and showed his thumbs up!

Immediately, blowing her two cheeks, Sirin replied angrily, “Dad, you haven’t seen it yet.”

He smiled at her saying, “No time, baby. I will see it later.” He just patted her back lovingly, kissed her forehead, and rushed for his office.

She was not a kid to be pleased with simple gesture or smile. She stood there for a few seconds, and then stormed off to her own bedroom. Hot air was blowing from her nostrils (鼻孔); her face turned into apple red. She threw the painting on the table, slammed (把……砰地关上) the door and threw herself on her bed.

“Why is everybody so busy?” She recalled thousands of incidents that hurt her in pre-school, middle school and even in high school too! She thought at least her own family members would respect her feelings, but they were no exception. At the thought of this, her eyes were filled with tears.

Then the knocking sound on the door stopped her thought. Her mom was calling her for dinner. Sirin deliberately (故意地) came late to join them. She kept silent and didn’t look at anyone, scratching (挠) the table mat with her nail. Her mom was puzzled at the unusual behavior. Suddenly, the morning incident came to her mind. Softly, she asked, “Honey, did I do anything wrong?”

At this very moment, Sirin could no longer control her feelings.

The next morning, Sirin was surprised to see her beautifully-decorated painting on the wall.

It was a painful time for me. At 42, I was slowly coming to terms with the idea that I might never be able to have a child due to my health condition. Up until that point, I never really gave much thought to being a mother and suddenly I could think of little else. My husband and I had been together for ten years before we decided to get married because neither of us was in a hurry to do so.

Motherhood just wasn’t part of the plan. As my 40th birthday approached, I began, for the first time, to notice babies and their happy, smiling mothers wherever I went. The voice inside me cried out, “It’s too late! You missed your chance to be a mother! You wanted an all-consuming career, and now you’ve got one.”

One day I headed to a café. An elegantly dressed, slightly older woman was seated a few stools (凳子) away at the half-empty counter.

“Would you like to see a picture of my daughter?” she asked me.

“Sure,” I said. She handed me a photo of a smiling Chinese girl. The child was about seven years old and was wearing a Snow White costume.

“That’s Melanie. She’s in the first grade,” she said, introducing herself as Jill. I could hear the motherly pride in her voice.

“She’s pretty,” I said.

“I love her costume.”

“What made you decide to adopt her?” I asked.

“I didn’t want work to be my whole life,” she said.

I’m not sure if she saw the tears welling up in my eyes as I replied, “I don’t either, but I’m afraid it’s too late.”

“I was 51 when I adopted Melanie,” she said with more than a hint of reassurance in her voice. “And it’s the most rewarding, exciting thing I’ve ever done.”

A few days later, I told my husband that I wanted to look into adopting a girl from China.

We recently reconnected on Facebook with Jill.