Story 15

What does that look like to you? So much trash left upon a table? Perhaps it is the work of some rodent seeking warmth from winter’s chill? Maybe I should explain.

We spent 2 days taking care of our grandchildren. Needless to say, we know the reasons people usually don’t have children at our age. With a 4 year old girl and 18-month-old boy, our days, and nights, were pretty busy. It took only seconds for the house to look like an atom bomb hit it. You forget how fast children can destroy your best cleaning effort, and how fast dirty dishes multiply in the kitchen sink, even as you are washing them. Not to mention the aching back from carrying and playing. I never knew it took so long to get off the floor once I got down there. How many times can one child watch the same movie anyway? I think the tape should be worn through by now (and I secretly wish it was). And you thought sleeping with your spouse was bad? How about a sleep active child who kicks you more times than a mad mule? Then there are the dreams with the talking, and YELLING too. There truly is no rest for the weary. If I hear “why” again I think I’ll, I’ll, I’ll…………… Heck, I’m too tired to know what I will do. The crying for no possible reason strikes a nerve as well. If I could not figure out what was wrong with my child 30 years ago, how could I figure it out now? I should thank God for duct tape. OK, OK, just a pleasant thought. And what ever happened to “children are to be seen and not heard”? I don’t think they ever “heard” of that either. At least they are gone now and we are alone.

So what has all that got to do with the picture? Well, the answer is money. Yes, that’s right, money. Looking a little confused? Ahhhhhhhh, well it’s a complicated little story. You see my granddaughter left it there. She asked me if I needed any money. I told her I needed money for dinner, so she gave me some.

But it is more than a gift of money. It is a gift of imagination. A child’s imagination is boundless and should be cultivated into the insights needed to better us, for only the imagination can turn dreams into reality. It is the gift of play. Play relieves the body of all which troubles it, replacing it with joy and happiness. It is the gift of creativity. A child’s mind is a diary, filled each day by experiences. Those experiences determine who the child will be, both to the child and us. But most importantly, it is the gift of love. She gave ALL her money to me because she loved me. It did not matter if she had none, I needed it. The smile on her face and the sound of her laughter do indeed bring contentment to the heart.

So you see, one man’s trash is truly another man’s treasure. God, I miss them already.