Out of the mouths of babes or so the saying goes…
And there is this child who stands by my knee, me a crumpled ruin on the floor, a child who catches my tears for safe-keeping, who says, “people have their truth but it is not your truth and you have your truth but it is not anyone else’s. We have our own, you know?”
What does a three-year-old know about such things?
And she says, “my grandfather told me that” and evidently he tells her a lot of things because every bit of wisdom or knowledge that she shares comes from him — the one she knew “when he was a little baby” and who knew her when “she was grown”.
Or have I whispered to her these mysteries, tucked them away in her heart for safe-keeping until the day I trigger the spring and she opens up and saves me?
Copyright © 2015, Ilana Hulsey Rea. All rights reserved.