The occasion of a new year calls for reflection and projection. Newspapers call out favorite quotes from the year gone by and what they might mean for the upcoming year. I’ll do the same, not by quoting pundits and politicians, but rather the celebrities in my life, my five kids, ages 2 through 13. Their offhand proclamations from 2008, however innocent, contain pearls for 2009. Names are withheld to prevent teasing from classmates.
In 2008, a 7-year-old girl, while being driven to the birthday party of a friend who’s crazy about the latest teen pop sensation, asked her fortysomething mom, “When you were a little girl did you just love Hannah Montana?” She reminds us of our transitory times. As you lament the current state of affairs, remember that whatever pop star ruled your youth — David Cassidy, young Madonna, a Backstreet Boy or the virginal Britney — he or she came and went, as will the latest shock to your 401(k).
In 2008, while riding in the backseat of a car, a little kid looked to the nighttime sky and asked, “Are moons bigger than giraffes?” Grownups struggle with perspective. We’re quick to focus on those looming giraffes, the latest utility bill or that nasty remark the boss made, that fill our vision. It takes effort to step back, look skyward and see the moon: the planet-sized blessing of health, home and family.
In 2008, a little girl barged in on her half-dressed aunt, pointed to her exposed chest and said, “What are those?” After hearing the answer she looked down at herself and observed, “Hmmm… I don’t have those.” She pondered momentarily, then blurted with glee, “But I have elbows!” as she pointed them skyward. Be glad for what you have, and if you’re patient, you might even get what you hope for.
In 2008, one of these kids, after hearing how a childproof lock on a car door works, responded, “Well, how does it know there’s a child trying to open it?” That’s easy: the same way a thermos knows how to keep hot things hot and cold things cold.
In 2008, a little kid, upon seeing a dead grasshopper in the road, asked, “Daddy, do bugs die of old age or do they have to be squished?” It’s easy for us self-centered humans, as we carry on in microcosms we’ve built ourselves, to assume that our complete control of our surroundings surely must extend to the entire planet. But fortunately, we are dwarfed by forces, natural and otherwise, that we must respect with great humility.
In 2008, a 5-year-old boy spoke of endless possibility, “God is magic. He can stand on a cloud, and a cloud is made of water. He can have a bed and a blanket, and he won’t fall through.” When reality clobbers us daily with nonnegotiable facts, take comfort in the great mysteries, however you interpret them, because they persist, if only through our faith and imagination. That same kid asked, “Mommy, when you fall asleep and you dream, do you disappear?” Does anyone know the answer?
For the year ahead, I wish you great mysteries that fire your imagination, appreciation for having elbows, the perspective to know that good times follow bad times, and moons way bigger than giraffes.
