poetry of the soul

The boy had a difficult morning yesterday. He wasn’t consulted about whether or not he wanted berries in his porridge before his aunt put them in. This was a very sore point in his morning even though he loves berries. Then he took it into his head that he didn’t want to go to church today, as everyone was getting into the car and rushing to leave. No one stayed home with him as he wanted, so he had to come.

I could tell he was about to have a melt down, because he doesn’t react very well to not being in control of his little life, so I opted to sit with him outside for a while once we arrived instead of make him go to class, and help him cope with all of life’s injustices, which are many when you are 4.

After talking for a while about the fact that he couldn’t change that we were there but he could decide whether or not to have a good day and enjoy the things that he likes about being there, even if it wasn’t his choice to come. (Sometimes having a recovering control freak for a mother can be irritating.)

His uncle came walking by, whom he normally loves to see, and gave him a big hello and went for a hug. The boy ran away behind me. His uncle stopped and asked, “Hey, what’s the matter, you know me?”

The Boy turned to me and said with a sniff, “I don’t know him any more.”[insert quaver in voice here]

Then he turned and started to run away. I stopped him and asked what was going on, and he looked up at me with a very sorrowful, solemn expression, and summed up all that was going on in his soul thus. “I don’t know anyone any more.”