Coffee Table Declarations
Thursday, July 29, 2004
It's amazing how sociable kids can be. I can remember being a kid and going someplace with my parents where there were other kids I'd never met and within the hour you'd think we were life long friends the way we were getting along and playing games. I can remember being distraught when my mom would say, "it's time to go home now" and having to drag me away from my new friend. But I was fickle. I didn't mourn for too long and there were always new kids to play with. Such is the nature of these brief and intense childhood friendships. Last weekend I experienced one again.
I went swimming at a pond by myself and it was full of parents and kids. My goal for the day was to be in the water so there I was, floating around, enjoying the water, and actually starting to feel a little bored by myself, when all of a sudden a little girl started talking to me. With not a trace of self-consciousness she started telling me things ("that's my brother over there") and showing me tips on swimming ("you need to make teacups with your hands... like this, see?") She was probably around five and her name was Lily. She reminded me both of being a child and of spending regular time with children - something I really miss. We became fast friends and I was happy to have some company.
When the time came for me to leave I went up with her to where her mom and aunt were sitting on the shore which just happened to be right next to where I had left my stuff. I overheard her mom telling her not to go too deep in the water and her protesting, "but there's a grown up in there!" Could she possibly have meant me?
Lily turned and saw me gathering up my stuff. "Are you leaving?" she asked. I said I was and her face fell. I felt terrible. I told her I had enjoyed talking to her and she said, "you can be my friend!" Of course I agreed that I would. I told her we might see each other again at the pond and, counting on the nature of childhood friendships, I hoped she would forget about me within a couple of hours and not feel sad. It was really the only reason I was able to leave.
I went swimming at a pond by myself and it was full of parents and kids. My goal for the day was to be in the water so there I was, floating around, enjoying the water, and actually starting to feel a little bored by myself, when all of a sudden a little girl started talking to me. With not a trace of self-consciousness she started telling me things ("that's my brother over there") and showing me tips on swimming ("you need to make teacups with your hands... like this, see?") She was probably around five and her name was Lily. She reminded me both of being a child and of spending regular time with children - something I really miss. We became fast friends and I was happy to have some company.
When the time came for me to leave I went up with her to where her mom and aunt were sitting on the shore which just happened to be right next to where I had left my stuff. I overheard her mom telling her not to go too deep in the water and her protesting, "but there's a grown up in there!" Could she possibly have meant me?
Lily turned and saw me gathering up my stuff. "Are you leaving?" she asked. I said I was and her face fell. I felt terrible. I told her I had enjoyed talking to her and she said, "you can be my friend!" Of course I agreed that I would. I told her we might see each other again at the pond and, counting on the nature of childhood friendships, I hoped she would forget about me within a couple of hours and not feel sad. It was really the only reason I was able to leave.
