These children are precious – even with their runny noses, in some cases. As I watched these children play, I smiled. As I observed their interaction with the parent who came to pick them up at the end of the day, I cried.
There is a little girl – about 4 – with curly black hair and sparkling bright blue eyes. Her voice is soft; her laughter lyrical; and she walks as if floating on air. Even though she’s small, she holds a wisdom in her eyes that would rival even that of the ancient King Solomon. Her hands grasp flowers, but they could build bridges to link every person in the world. She’s smart. I would venture to say that she is borderline genious – with a sense of wonder and amazement that I have never before seen. I do not know her name. I do not know how she entered the world or what relationship her parents have. All I know is that she would have to be a shining jewel in their little world. I don’t know a lot of things about her – this dream child – for I always seem to wake up right after she raises her head to look at me, but she is holding my hand as we walk down the street. This child is mine and I want so badly to meet her, but I mourn at the realization that she may never exist.
Time, time, time. That’s all we hear about….”time is precious”, “you’re wasting time”, “your time upon this earth is short”, etc. Is it possible that I have wasted too much time and energy looking at the past, that I’ve lost sight of present possibilities and relationships that may have enhanced my future? Am I doomed to wander through the rest of life admiring someone else’s child and never be able to know on of my own? I want to know that little girl. I want to know her name.
