Monday, April 7, 2014

For the Love of a Child

The school bus stopped outside the gate. My little 5 year old friend S got out. I watched from my kitchen window as he skipped along holding his mother’s hand. His red school bag bouncing a little. Suddenly, to his mother’s obvious discomfort and agitation, he veered toward my window and looked up. I smiled and waved at them. We made some ordinary conversation about children and the unfairness of having school on a Saturday that steals away a child’s play hours.

S had been looking at me purposefully. I knew what was coming. “Aunty,” his voice floated up. “Come for tea,” he commanded. With S, it was never a request or a question. It was always a command stemming from the right he knew he had over me. My voice suddenly constricted, at a loss for words. “I am busy darling,” I faltered out a response. “Liar,” said my inner voice. S ignored my response and with all the confidence and love of a child said, “Come with your phone, ok.” The innocence and demand of this 5 year old brought unbidden tears to my eyes. I desperately hoped no one would notice. And smiled a little at mother and son. Not hearing a positive response from me, he looked away. With the resilience of a child, he waved back and moved into the building with his mother.

I was reminded of all the times he had spent rolling on the red bean bag in my living room or just sitting on the corner of my bed, his spot. Engrossed as only a child can be in an iPad game. An occasional demand for milk in his favorite red cup would float up. “Come up and drink your milk,” I would say. “You bring it down,” would come the response.

The red cup is waiting too, sweetheart! 

My workstation... I have kept your word. :)

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