Dear World, I bequeath to you today one little boy in a clean red polo shirt...with two brown eyes. A happy laugh that ripples all day long, and a batch of dirty blonde hair that bounces in the sunlight when he runs. With his ninja-turtle backpack and favorite shooes, he will now begin a journey that will not end for 13 years. Now he will learn that not EVERYONES favorite color is purple and that not everyone will understand why it is his I trust you’ll treat him well. He’s slipping out of the backyard of my heart this morning and skipping off to his first day of school. And never again will he be completely mine. Prim and proud, he’ll wave a young and independent hand this morning, and say goodbye and walk with big-boy steps to the nearby schoolhouse...Gone will be the chattering little boy who lived only for play, and gone will be the delightful little man who roamed the yard like a proud prince with nary a care in his little world. Now, he will learn to stand in lines...and wait by the alphabet for his name to be called. He will learn to tune his little-boy ears for the sound of school bells, and for deadlines. He will learn to giggle and gossip. And to look at the ceiling in a disinterested way when the little girl across the aisle sticks out her tongue. Now he will learn to be jealous...and now he will learn how it is to feel hurt inside...and now he will learn how not to cry when all I have ever wanted was for him to feel safe and secire. I taught and raised him to show is emotions and now he could very-well be made fun of because of that. My little boy who was so small - who I prayed for, cried over, birthed, nursed and held whenever possible. My little boy who slept on my chest when he was very sick. My little boy who is a loving, caring, smart, goofy child. Who keeps me on my toes and makes me see things in a differet light. No longer will he have time to sit on the front porch steps on a summer day and watch while an rolie-polies scurries across a crack in the sidewalk. Or will he have time to pop out of his bed with the dawn, to only run down the hall, jump into my bed and tell me he loves me. Now he will worry about important things. ..like grades...and what to eat...and whose best friend is whose. Now he will worry about the little girl who ignores him at recess time...and staying after school...and which little girls like which little boys. And the magic of books and knowledge will soon take the place of the magic of his blocks and cars. And he will find new heroes. For five full years I’ve been his sage and Santa Claus...his pal and playmate...his mother and his best friend. Now, alas, he’ll learn to share his worship and adoration with his teachers (which is only right). But no longer will I be the smartest, greatest woman in the world. Today, when the first school bell rings, he’ll learn how it is to be a member of the group...with all its privileges, and, of course, its disadvantages, too. He will learn in time that polite young men do not laugh out loud...or kiss dogs...or stomp around in the mud in his church clothes...or watch rolie-polies scurry across the cracks in a summer sidewalk. Today, he will begin to learn for the first time that all who smile at him are not his friends. . . That being part of “the group” can be a demanding job... And I’ll stand at the school and watch him start out on the long, long journey to becoming a man. So World, I bequeath to you today one little boy in a clean red polo shirt and two brown eyes. And a happy laugh that ripples all day long, and a batch of dirty blonde hair that bounces in the sunlight when he runs. I trust you’ll treat him well. Kristin Buchert
Posted on: Mon, 25 Aug 2014 13:17:31 +0000
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