|my grandson on another day (I didn't have a camera today)|
This morning I had the dubious honor of tending, and thus waking up my two-year-old grandson. (He likes to sleep in, and if allowed to do so he won't take naps). He didn't want anything to do with me at first and moped in his crib whimpering for "mama" and "daddy." Finally, I managed to convince him to come with me outside to pick raspberries. That required not only carrying him, but his elephant pillow, his teddy bear, and his singing stuffed dog. Like a clumsy clown juggling four unmatched items, I plowed out into the windy hot morning with my arms full. Being a menopausal woman, I anticipated tackling my necessary chores in the garden slightly more than stepping into a convection oven. As I laid my grandson upon the blanket I had spread beneath the far-reaching shade of the sycamore tree, I realized he was no longer fighting me. In fact, the normally fiasco-filled task of changing his diaper came off without a single wiggle. His face caught my gaze. I watched the wind whip through his white-blond hair and brush across his face, causing his eyes to blink. But those blinks were not merely a defense against the wind. From the wonderment in his eyes, his eyelids appeared to be reacting positively to a new experience. His face radiated the fascination and joy of an older child plowing through the air in his first roller coaster ride.
I went on to tackle my task of picking raspberries a little less dis-gruntled. I looked through the eyes of my grandson and felt a renewed appreciation for Mother Nature; Her variety and beauty in all that She does. I felt a confirmation to my soul of why I enjoy writing for children. Their desires are simple and are easily appeased. Joy comes to them through experiencing what we adults might find mundane. Yet when it comes down to it, the things that bring the most smiles to their faces are some of the most beautiful things of all. Like a warm summer wind kissing your face for the very first time.
Those of you who write for children, why is it that you have chosen to do so.