Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Being a Child

Looking out of the big picture window of the quaint bookstore huddled in a corner, surrounded by books, I watch the passersby looking up occasionally from my laptop, daydreaming. A mother crosses the village street grasping the hand of two young children on each side dressed in matching Spring jackets of yellow and green. Is that Spider Man leaping over tall buildings in a single bound?

Midway across the street the mother holds tighter the youngest child's hand, pulling him closer and slightly ahead of her--rushing. He yanks and pulls away from her--too tight, too tense. What's going on? Careful dear mother. Even in such situations with the potential of harm, though this is a rather sleepy intersection, he doesn't quite understand. He merely feels the tension.

They cross. The older boy jumps gleefully up and down as his feet touch the sidewalk, free from his mother's hand. The younger one follows suit momentarily. But he soon simply extends his hand for his mother's again. She takes it. He looks up at her and smiles. The tension in her body is no longer there. All is well.

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