About halfway into our hike yesterday morning, my five-year-old son asked me how he knew there was a fire in the area where we had taken a short break. When I said I didn’t know, he proudly showed me his evidence: a small blackened log.
With the kind of fascination only a young child can exhibit, he broke off a small chunk to take as a reminder of his investigative skills. Despite already having collected several rocks and acorns, this piece of treasure came with a story to tell.
And tell it he did. Nearly every hiker we encountered for the next hour was treated to the story of him finding a burnt log, how it revealed to him there was a fire there, how he broke off the chunk he was showing them, and how he planned to keep it to remind him how he had discovered something intriguing on our journey.
What I observed in this was how graciously people (and by people, I mean the women; guys, we need to get better at stopping to smell the roses) would stop and attentively listen to the story. I was also aware of my own desire to keep moving and not bother the other hikers.
What I finally realized after about the tenth narration was how my son was giving those who stopped and listened a moment of the graces of humanity. I could see by the eye contact, the shakes of the head, the words of affirmation, and the wide smiles that he had infused a moment of happiness, joy, and wonder from his life into theirs. In those moments, he made their lives better.
I can’t help but think that they continued to carry that moment with them and maybe even told others of this wonder-filled connection they experienced.
I also hope that it stays in my mind long enough to convince me that I too can create these moments of humanity
Sarah Griffenhagen says:
Oh how timely this post is for me. John and I are returning from a short trip to the beach. I sat for hours watching various children and their reactions to shells, waves, sinking sand and all other forms of entertainment.
I saw a Dad engaged with his 3(?)yr old daughter. I am sure running from your towel to the water got old after the 3rd time but that Dad found joy in her joy. They both shared it with me and will never know! May we see through a child’s eye and may we never cease to share the joy.
Barbara Saulpaugh says:
Such a sweet story! I love the details that we may have not noticed as adults!