Showing posts with label child's perspective. Show all posts
Showing posts with label child's perspective. Show all posts

Wednesday, 11 February 2009

When Stars Fall


I ran because I didn’t know what else to do. 

I ran because I could hear them yelling in the living room, shouting about this, that or the other, screaming about such and such, fighting over nothing in particular. I ran because it hurt when they fought, because the knot in my stomach twisted tighter and tighter with each hateful word, because Mother and Father didn't really care if I ran, so I was going to run.

I ran out the back door and into the night, where the warm breeze fluttered through my hair, where the tall grass swished through my bare feet, where the words of my mother --"Look, John, now you've gone and made him do it again..."-- faded away and I was left alone with my thoughts. Past the picket fence, down the long dirt driveway and up the hill with the willow at the top I ran. The willow whispered to me as I desperately climbed its branches, whispered how it understood and that no matter what happened, it would never, ever yell at me or hurt me. Never.

 

I climb to the top and the stars shimmer to greet me. The stars are brighter out in the country, where I live, where my parents fight. Mother used to tell me they were the tears that Jesus shed when He knew how much we were going to abuse His Creation. How much we were going to sin. And every time you see a shooting star, He's crying again.

 

I'm too old for most stories, but I will never be too old for that one. Because every time I see a shooting star, I think of a time when they fought, and how much it hurts, and I wonder how many tears He's going to have to shed before Mom and Dad don't fight anymore.

I shiver, but not because of the cold. It's such a wonderful night, and not to be wasted at the house. The breeze and the willow sing me a song, but I can't hear the words. The melody drifts around me, it wraps me in its arms, it speaks of peace and love and truth and joy...I listen until my eyes close and my arm droops lazily over an outcropping limb.

"Gabriel! Gabriel!"

I open my eyes and look down to see my father standing at the bottom. His face is warm and his eyes are kind, and I can see that the fighting is over for tonight. I climb down and let him hug me and tell me how everything is fine now and that they won't fight ever again, but I know that they're going to do the same thing in a week or so.

I smile and say "Yes, Dad" and let him lead me home. On our way down the hill, I look up at the sky and see a star shimmer across the horizon. My dad points to it.

"Look, Gabriel, a shooting star!"

I look up, and then down as a tear of my own drops to the ground and is soaked up by the understanding earth.

And no matter how many light years apart we are, I know He understands.

Tuesday, 9 September 2008

Dawn and dusk

Sun risingShe had always loved getting up this early in the day. Before sunrise the world always seemed so different and so very, very quiet, like it was waiting for something to happen. She hardly ever felt sleepy at all when she got up this early. Preparing for a journey at this time always seemed to instil a hushed, business-like sense of purpose in people.

She knew that she wasn't meant to be excited but it just all seemed so much like an adventure. More so than it would have done had they all woken up at the right time of the morning.

'Did you remember to get your toothbrush, sweetheart?' her father asked her quietly, crouching down to her level in front of her to make sure of her attention. She nodded quickly.

The hushed voice that everyone put on at this time of day was another thing she liked about the time before sunrise. Everyone in the house was awake and busy gathering their things and yet they all moved carefully and hummed quiet conversation at each other only when necessary. It was as if they were already at grampa's bedside, afraid to disturb him.

'Good girl' her father said, absently touching her cheek, 'now don't forget to bring Claudia with you, it's going to be a long car ride.'

'Ok Daddy' she said quickly and ran back up the stairs to fetch her doll from beside the bed where Claudia had fallen after her father had woken her up. His voice had been all tired and sad. She hoped that they would start travelling before the sun came up. She always loved to watch the sun come up and she always saw it best from the car.

As she carefully made her way back down the stairs, step by step, with Claudia, she was delighted to see that they were already getting into the car. They'd be on the road in plenty of time for sunrise.

'Are you ready sweetheart?' her father asked reaching to pick her up.

'Daddy, are we going to going to see Grampa?' she asked wrapping her arms around his neck. Her father sighed slightly and hugged her.

'Yes sweetheart,' he said even more quietly than before, 'we're going to see Grandpa.'


By Mark Clarke