Suffer The Little Ones……

          The face was priceless. The joy and wanderlust fairly leaped from beneath his mop of dark hair. No Tom Sawyer here. But I believe I detected a hint of mischief. And any fool could see he was propped up, wide-eyed and eager to meet any challenges this world had to offer.

           I guessed him to be four, maybe five. The truck went by pretty fast. I was trimming the hedge; like I’d done a hundred times. My mind on nothing, and everything. This hedge and I had been wrestling each other for thirty years. You invented ways to divert your thoughts from the monotony and the steady hum of the trimmer. Mostly I was just trying to finish.

           I don’t know what made me look up. The white pick-up was halfway past when I saw him. His head wasn’t stuck out the window as much as it was perched in the midst of it. He was obviously on his knees, his little hands resting on the sill with his head lifted….his eyes sparkling.

           I’ve never seen a child so alert to his surroundings. He was feeling the wind in his face, he was tasting the late morning air. And don’t quote me seat belt laws and safety regulations. This young man was experiencing life! If you could have seen those eyes! If we could all live with just a touch of that aliveness; a hint of the anticipation; the freshness with which he viewed each moment……what a world it would be! 

           I waved but it was too late. He had seen me. He had “experienced” my yard. He was already checking out my neighbors. I stared after the truck long after it drifted out of sight. What an incredible wonderful young man! And I had only seen him for a split second. I didn’t recognize him, his driver or the truck. But he encouraged my heart just by his shear joy.

           Shoot, he didn’t see me as an old man out chopping on this hedge. He saw a warrior doing battle against an invading army, the Grinch seeking out his next round of Christmas gifts for his new friends in Whoville……or perhaps a Galataka starship captain rising up from the bushes with a rotating magnetic super blade flashing from his right hand. His world didn’t have the silly limitations that grown-ups can’t seem to exist without.

           He wasn’t mad at a single solitary soul. He wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t saying one thing and thinking something else. His little heart was free of guile. He trusted automatically. He wasn’t disappointed in life. None of that half full, half empty stuff for him. His cup runeth over! Face value was all he knew.

           How I envied him.

           Dad’s old International was a distant memory for me. But I can remember leaning out the window, trying to spit past the running board. I remember the ride to town. Mrs. Brooks would wave from her front porch. The Hudsons would be playing in the yard. The two story elementary school looked so large. The sun would hurt your eyes it shown so bright. And don’t believe that small, one-horse town stuff you read about today. Our buildings were alive! The colors were varied and vivid. Everyone waved, nodded or smiled a greeting. The sights and sounds were magic!

           I didn’t look. I drank it in. There is a big difference! My little heart beat faster as we circled the square. I was riding “uptown” with Daddy! “Hey Billy” I yelled. “Good morning, Miss Mitchum.” I checked the big marquee at the Park Theatre. I couldn’t read so good yet……but I could make out Tex Ritter’s name. It had to be a western!

           Dad stopped in front of Bailey Moore Wrinkles’ Hardware. I climbed down out of that truck straight and tall, like I owned the world. And you know what, I did! I wasn’t worried about the next day, who had run off with the John Deere salesman from Dresden, Eisenhower’s pledge to help the southern planter in the boll weevil war or the price of eggs in China. We were just here to pick up some paint and a pound of nails. Life can’t get much better than that…… Unless, of course, we could stop by the City Café for a real store bought hamburger before we headed home.  

           Life demands that you grow up. It doesn’t say nothing about losing your zest, your sweet innocence, your wanderlust for new adventures……. Do you reckon we’re missing the boat here? I go to town now and wave only if someone almost runs over me. I get my air condition filter or washing detergent and race back to the house. When did the trip become so perfunctory that I missed Miss Brooks’ wave? Or didn’t see the Hudson boys? Or forgot to marvel at the size of the elementary school?

           I eased off the trigger on the trimmer and peered back down the street. I was hoping the white pick-up might reappear. I wanted to wave and holler thanks. I wanted to tell that young man that I got it! I don’t want him to grow up to be like me……I want me to grow down to be like him!

           Life is no less exciting because you’ve seen a mite more of it. There is no law against sparkling eyes at any age. Living should never be routine. I squinted up at the sky…..it was still so blue it would hurt your eyes. The wind kicked around me. Funny, I hadn’t noticed the freshness of it until just now.

           I turned back to my hedge with a hum on my lips, a song in my heart and a smile that wasn’t so faded…… I’m not going to be out done by a five year old!

               Respectfully,

                 Little Kes