Not one of these is a pack and not one is a surprise. The child already knows they earned something, so what is left is the small ceremony that marks it. Each of these says a different thing about what just happened. Click any of them to play it.

The card sits on the board from the first attempt, grey and soft. Colour floods out from the middle as the criterion is met, the word sharpens, the tag drops. Says: this was always yours and you were filling it in. Nothing to open, two seconds of session time, and it does not embarrass a nine year old.

The stamp drops, squashes on impact, the card jolts and ink flecks scatter. The mark lands crooked and stays. Says: this is a record and an adult signed it. The one that scales, because the same card takes a second stamp at phrase level and a third at sentence.

Their name writes itself across the front, the flap folds back and the card draws out with the drag of paper. Says: somebody sent this to you on purpose. Mail is the opposite of a lottery, and this is the one that still works when it is posted to the house between sessions.

A highlight runs across the card as it lifts from the corner, leaving its shape behind on the backing. Says: take it, it comes off, it goes in your book. Every child knows the gesture from a reward chart, and it is exactly what the printed album page asks them to do.

A card catalogue drawer labelled with the child's name and their sound slides out, and the card rises from inside. Says: there is a place in here that is yours. The best one for a screen the therapist is sharing, because the drawer is visibly the child's and not the adult's.


A binder page with pockets. The new card drops in from above, tips, and slots home with a small click. Says: this belongs in a set and the set is nearly full. The empty pocket beside it is the whole point, because it names what is still missing without saying a word about it.

The card flies up, catches the hook and swings itself still. Says: this is finished and it is on display. Too big for every card, so save it for the end of a deck, when the whole row goes up at once and the child can stand back and look at it.

The camera whirrs, the card feeds out in jerks, shakes itself and then develops. Says: we just caught you doing it. The one to use the first time a child says a word correctly in a sentence, because it behaves like a photograph of the moment rather than a prize for it.