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• A View Of A Little Girl
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  Tuesday, Jun 9, 2009 1:44AM / Standard Entry / Members only
  22 comments

  I heard a ruckus outside.  A woman yelling, something like anger.  I can't make out the words at first, but when I stepped outside the words became clear when I ran into the scene by accident.  "How do you complete this sentence?". The woman asks her puzzled child.  She is a reflection of her mother, lost in her mother's heated questioning, like a deer caught in headlights.  "If you are going to play outside, do you say 'I play outside' or. 'You play outside?'" The mother is now flailing her arms for emphasis.  "The answer is 'I play outside!'"  The words do not begin to make sense to the child, but to me seemed so full of love and emotion.  It wasn't anger as it turned out, just a mother frustrated, wanting her child to learn her homework, sitting on the edge of the family store facing the sidewalk.  The lost child listening attentively to her mother's pleading, a pleading for a better future, a better life, a better version of that reflection that will soon grow unto its own.  I wonder if the child will remember this moment with her mother later.  Or will this moment fade and blend into other moments that make up her memory of Mom.  Will she understand her mother's words are not just about her homework, that they carry a greater meaning and from that moment they shared with a bystander.  She will know that her mother loves her more than she will know from her angry words, that words will lose their meaning over time, and only the meaning in between remains.