reflections on a small child...

Christmas--that magic blanket that wraps itself about us, is that something so intangible that it is like a fragrance. It may weave a spell of nostalgia. Christmas may be a day of feasting, or of prayer, but always it will be a day of remembrance--a day in which we think of everything we have ever loved. -Augusta E. Rundel

As we, tonight, remember the birth of a child, I am also reflecting on some of my favourite memories of other small children dear to me…along with a good quote or two:

I would actually be mostly content if my children grew up to be the kind of people who think decorating consists mostly of building enough bookshelves. -Anna Quindlen

Layne would often come running over to me and jump on my lap so that she was facing me.  She would then, almost always, pull down the front of my shirt to below my neck and say “Where is your muskrat?” “Layne,” I would say, “it’s called a mole, not a muskrat.”

“If I had influence with the good fairy who is supposed to preside over the christening of all children I should ask that her gift to each child in the world be a sense of wonder so indestructible that it would last throughout life, as an unfailing antidote against the boredom and disenchantments of later years, the sterile preoccupation with things artificial, the alienation from the sources of our strength.” 
― Rachel Carson, The Sense of Wonder

I asked Simone what she wants to be when she grows up and she said, “a fairy”.  She went on to say, “My mom said that I can be anything I want as long as I go to school to learn it, so I will go to fairy school and become a fairy.”  I said, “aren’t fairies really small?  Are you going to become really small when you grow up?”  She wrinkled her forehead and thought about it for a little bit and said, “yeah, I’m not quite sure how that works yet.”

Three wise women would have asked directions

Arrived on time and helped deliver the Baby

Cleaned the stable

Made a casserole

Brought practical gifts

And there would be peace on earth…-unknown

Jade ran to the phone as it was ringing, before her mom could reach it.  Her mom listened as Jade, after a few moments, said to the person on the other end, “no thanks, my mom can do that” and hung up.  Her mom said to her, “Jade, who was that?” and she replied, “it was just someone asking if we needed our carpets cleaned.”

Holy Child, whom the shepherds and the beasts and kings adored, be born again. Wherever there is boredom, wherever there is fear of failure, wherever there is war in this world, wherever there is pain, wherever there is loneliness, wherever there is no hope, wherever there is temptation too strong to resist, wherever there is bitterness of heart, come O blessed one, with healing in your wings. -Frederck Beuchner (adapted)

Simone was walking outside with her Oma, after it had been raining.  They saw a beautiful rainbow and counted the colours.  A few minutes later, they heard a siren in the distance.  Oma said, “I wonder what happened.”  Simone said, “I know what happened.  A child went sliding down the rainbow and landed too hard and broke his arm. I’m sure that’s what happened.”

“Accept the children the way we accept trees—with gratitude, because they are a blessing—but do not have expectations or desires. You don’t expect trees to change, you love them as they are.” ― Isabel Allende

The swan had followed Ella and her dad up the path to our front doorstep, where it proceeded to get a bit ornery.  It wanted more bread.  We gave him (or is it a her?) an old doughnut.  I’m not sure if that’s a healthy option for a bird – I’m guessing probably not.  But this swan was, as Ella’s dad put it, ‘agro’- aggressive.  As we weren’t feeding it quickly enough, it began to bite Ella’s dad’s pants and shoes, banging its head against his leg, while Ella on the inside of the door, screamed at it “papa nicht beissen, papa nicht beissen! (don’t bite dad, don’t bite dad!)”

“May what I do flow from me like a river, no forcing and no holding back, the way it is with children.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke

Their dad was tucking six-year-old Lyn and her little brother, Angus, into bed, as Lyn said to him that her husband was sleeping downstairs.  He looked at her and said, “pardon?”  She explained that Jack and Amelie, Angus’s wife (not their real names), were sleeping downstairs together.  Their dad asked “why are your husband and his wife sleeping downstairs together?” “Because they’re also brother and sister.”

Are you willing to stoop down and consider the needs and desires of little children; to remember the weaknesses and loneliness of people who are growing old; to stop asking how much your friends love you, and to ask yourself if you love them enough…-Harry Van Dyke

A few days after little Cole was born, it was becoming clear that he wasn’t getting enough food.  He was losing weight and the doctor said if he didn’t begin gaining weight she would put him in the hospital.  My brother had to go back to work and so I (and her mom and sister, taking shifts) helped my sister-in-law feed the baby every three hours, until he was milk drunk.  That’s what the doctor ordered; the baby needed to get milk-drunk, and that is exactly what he looked like after we had stuffed him full of milk…drunk, like a cute little baby all hammered on milk.

"May the forgiving spirit of Him to whom we dedicate this season prevail
again on earth.
May hunger disappear and terrorists cease their senseless acts.
May people live in freedom, worshiping as they see fit, loving others.
May the sanctity of the home be ever preserved.
May peace, everlasting peace, reign supreme."    -unknown