Friday, August 19, 2011

within a child

Daily, I watch in wonder this child growing into an adventurous explorer.  It wasn’t too long ago that he wouldn’t finish his meal if his hands got dirty. Now, he can be found on all fours searching through the dirt.  He found this little opening in the bushes and slowly realized he could crawl in and hide, as he went in deeper, he kept looking back at me smiling.  We collected rocks, sticks, and leaves, which we pressed between wax paper later that day.  I watched him as I sat on the bench, listening to Edith Piaf and holding my little girl who loves the sunshine and breeze and French music, she told me so.
I love how he points in the air and exclaims, Wind!  How he chases the bugs down the sidewalk.  How he says hello and goodbye to everyone we see.  I love the delight in his eyes when he’s running in the grass. How he declared all the letters he knows. How he can distinguish between the sounds of a truck, car, motorcycle, or train. 
Picasso said that, “Every child is an artist, the problem is how to remain one once he grows up.”  I think the same goes for adventurers, explorers, being friendly to strangers, finding wonder in the everyday, believing that you can climb a very tall tree when you are small.
I never want to be the kind of mother to squelch that spirit, the world will try hard enough. 


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