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Saw, Scissors and Dirt

The same child who shouted a moment ago, “watch this, mommy!” and then rode “no hands” for most of a second on a bike still attached to its training wheels is also the child I found in the garage alone yesterday holding a hack saw and carrying two pairs of scissors in his right pocket.  

Not that this explains anything…about anything.

It’s just that the same kid, without the saw or the scissors or the screws from his other pocket, spent the next generous hour in the garden bed with a trowel and a dump truck shoveling and shaping  the dirt.  Shaping and shoveling.

I might’ve watched forever.

From the kitchen window I could see his whole body embrace the earth.  And…

and nothing seemed more peaceful.  Or loving.  Or pure…

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2 Responses to “Saw, Scissors and Dirt”

  1. mitzi dunayski says:

    Love that. Well said. Innocence of a young boy before he’s noticed girls, before he’s understood a rotten word, before he’s seen ugliness, or pressure, or inadequacy. I adore your Silas. He is a sweetie!

  2. jeanne says:

    Ah, Mitzi…you’re making my heart swell. Thanks, friend.

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