Toddlers
the wisdom of babes
I have looked close into the eyes of babes and heard the beating of their gentle hearts.
So listen well now, for I have some wisdom to share.
As often as you can, and finding yourself in the beatific presence of a toddler, go to your knees before the child and talk to them, eye to eye.
My daughter Clara removes her coat from its hook and busies herself saying goodbye to her teacher. As I wait for her at the classroom door, one of her tiny friends, Claudia, raises her chin to smile up at me and shouts a beaming, thrilled, too-loud
¡HOLA MAMÁ DE CLARA!
I answer a playful, too-loud
¡HOLA PEQUEÑA AMIGA DE CLARA!
and Claudia immediately erupts in delighted, snorting laughter. Her little body cannot contain how pleased she is with herself to have elicited a big hello from Clara’s Mama.
Clara kisses her teacher goodbye and comes to join Claudia and I at the door. As she arrives, I kneel to hug her. My arms open wide and, blessing of blessings, not one, but two glowing, pudgy cherubim glide in and stretch their arms around my neck, and I close the loop of my embrace around them both, and hold them there.
Our six arms, two long and four short, drop to our sides and we part, ever so lightly, to bring the hug to an end. Intuition keeps me on my knees, and I now behold two gorgeous fat faces only inches from my own. We giggle conspiratorially all three of us, enjoying the unexpected closeness of our bodies. I can tell that all three of us are experiencing the exact same feeling. It is the euphoria of unfiltered connection, so tangible, so real, as to eclipse for an instant, the distance that usually separates children and adults. Down here, in this embrace, there is no cognitive chasm between us, no societal shoulds and should nots. Clara’s eyes are so open and so near that I can see each single humid lash, Claudia’s breath tickles Clara’s nose, my warmth radiates and falls on both their cheeks.
Clara and Claudia are alike, they seem to be growing at the same pace. They are not babies anymore, but they are not little girls yet either. They are at that magical spot in their infancy where they are still round and clumsy, sensitive and tender, but also full of hot tantrums and imaginary worlds and climbing and urgent questions.
Claudia reaches her meaty, dimpled hand up to my face and touches the silver ring in my nose. Her eyes widen in wonder. It is like she is looking at the night sky for the first time.
¿Qué es esssssso? she asks in amazement.
I tell her and Clara that this is my nose ring, and that is my necklace, and yes it looks like a moon and of course you can touch it, and yes those are rings on my fingers too, and Clara really likes this winged one, don’t you Clarita?
Clara watches Claudia touching my face and my fingers, I know that she is studying how her Mama talks to her little companion. At regular intervals, between this ring and that bracelet, she interrupts Claudia’s questioning and pulls all three of us back into a hug. She is smiling to herself and I think she is feeling an infantile pride. Her expression seems to say
This is my friend and that is my Mamá and here we are together, talking to each other at the door of my classroom, and they are both mine, and this is so so so wonderful.
Claudia’s Mamá has arrived to pick her up. She smiles at me - continue please, I trust you - and stands a little ways back to wait.
Well, it’s time to go home now, I say into the huddle. Claudia kisses my mouth and hugs Clara again and then we are all trotting off in different directions, looking over our shoulders, calling out ¡Hasta mañana!
Clara and I stroll to our car and she tells me about the ups and downs of her day, but I am only half-listening, because I am still back there in the huddle, still inhaling the pure beauty of those children, those children!, still reeling at their trust and their awe and their goodness.
The world as it is, I do not often have intimate moments like this with children who are not my daughter. The world as it is, I never have moments like this with other adults, ever. The world as it is.
What a shame that we grown ups, in our lost innocence, our muddled maturity, cannot bear to stand close to one another, and draw from each other’s warmth, and carry that loving moment in our hearts, for what remains of the day.
Toddlers are a gift they are vessels that carry all of our knowledge, unspoiled and unwary * Toddlers know still what is really important all that is good, all that we we have forgotten
