I’ve been watching the children in our block play with their new gifts–sleds, skates, cell phones, the whole bounty of another American Christmas.
Their faces have a special glow and probably will for days to come.
On the other hand, there are the adults out there. They aren’t glowing, more like glowering, as they bundle up to face the morning winds and drive into yet another traffic jam.
The contrast got me thinking. Probably the best person we’ve ever been is the child we once were–fresh, open, willing to like the world around us.
The question becomes: Is there any way to recapture some of that best in us?
When Victor Herbert wrote “Toyland,” the key lyric was “Once you’ve crossed its borders, you can never return again.”
I hope he’s wrong.
Then something happened out there that made me think he just might be.
One of the neighbors (50ish) was helping his elderly mother navigate her crutches into his car. He was enormously gentle and patient.
Once he settled her inside, he noticed some of the children rolling in the snow. He paused, looked at his mother, then at the kids. In a sudden happy burst, he joined them in that snow, laughing and tickling.
Not a big deal, I suppose, but as he drove off, I had this cozy little feeling that not all of us dry up with the years. Somewhere there is still the child inside willing to both care and play.
Now if only more adults could nourish those “childhood” instincts instead of their more rapacious “adulthood” instincts, our neighborhoods, our corporations and our leaders would be a good deal better.
