As we sat on the driveway blowing bubbles and creating with chalk…a fly came to visit. Now this was no ordinary fly, because he just kept sitting on the pavement when she approached him. Though he skittered away, there was no flying away, just running. So she would stoop to snatch him, and hold him in her hands, and as he scurried up her arm she’d giggle ‘that tickles’ and try to transfer him to my hands. As he would wander quiet furtively on my arm she’d exclaim ‘oh he likes you’ and then work on getting him back into her cupped hands.
Over and over this scene continued for abut 15 minutes. She would throw herself wildly across the pavement to make sure he didn’t escape, cup him with glee, say ‘Come here friend’ and then giggle in delight and exclaim time and again ‘he likes me!’ as the fly continued to jump to get away.
And I sat there for those moments thinking about this interaction and how as an adult a fly is a pest. and while i’m not sure I would have spent much time with a fly that couldn’t fly..to her young heart and wandering eye it was a new play-thing with which to interact. And I wonder if it has to do with being closer to the ground, or having a mind that is open to all kinds of new things…but I wonder about how children seem to be present, more often than not, to things that I’d walk by in an instant and without their exclamation of wonder and joy not be privy to seeing or enjoying.
Sometimes, I wish for the innocence of youth again. To see life through those young, unspoiled eyes that seem to see everything as if for the first time, with eyes open wide to possibilities and questions and stories pouring like rain from their minds and mouths.
When did I learn to close my eyes and stop up my mouth? May my heart be reborn in the seeing of small moments and in the asking of questions…in the investigation and interaction with life.