To A Little Boy

I saw you today on the playground at your pre-school. My view of the playground is so obstructed that I can only see a small part of it when I’m on my porch in the afternoons.

You were sitting on a swing, perfectly still. You had your head in your hands with your elbows wrapped around the chain. I wondered if you were sick, and wished someone would check on you.  On the swing next to you, an older girl was sharing the swing with a smaller child, swinging high and having fun.

About six months went by. You didn’t move. You were just covering your face, looking sad and tiny. Then you started moving. You were wiggling like mad in an attempt to swing yourself because your feet didn’t touch the ground. At all.

No good.

So you got out of the swing to try a different approach to get moving, but you had to jump and jump to get back into it again. I thought about how hard it must be to be so small. Then, you left the swing and my view. When I looked again, you were playing with a truck in the dirt, alone.

I was sad for you. I wanted you to “not only survive, but prosper,” as Tuvok once said of a child. But I felt completely helpless. I can’t make anything okay in this world. So I asked God to take good care of you.

Instantly, there it was. Clarity. There are many things I’m too small to control, and I often feel I’m playing in the dirt alone. All I can do is trust and believe. ~a.k.a. chill out~ 

So I hope you’ll do the same. I just thought you’d like to know that you were on my mind today, and that your day mattered to me even if it was a hard one.