Sweetest Little Moment

Today my daughter had her first field trip of the year. I'd volunteered to chaperone, and was happy to have been selected. Arriving a few minutes early, I was asked to wait in the front vestibule of the school. While another mom and I were chatting, the school nurse happened to walk up, and the three of us spoke for a few moments. Behind the nurse, I could see a small boy approaching from far down the hallway of the lower grades, dressed in his gym uniform. My little boy had gym today also, and was of similar stature, so at first I actually wondered if it was Tommy coming down the hall. I hoped it was, because that would mean I could steal a mid-morning kiss and a hug. But once I could see his eyeglasses, I knew this little fellow was not my son, so I wondered instead if this was his classmate. He looked so small in his gym uniform, and wore a sweet little smile on his face as he approached. Instead of turning the corner, he walked right up to the nurse, took her hand and smiled up at her. "Hello, Joseph. Ready to take your medicine?" the nurse asked him. "Yes, Ms. (so-and-so; it's quite a long name and I am sorry to say I can't remember it)."

Something about the innocent gesture of taking the nurse's hand and patiently waiting for her to lead him to her office was so, so, adorable. I'm fighting a headcold and everything's making me hypersensitive today, but as I stood there I started to get a little choked up. The symbolism of the childhood innocence embodied in this small boy really struck me. Next year, surely he won't be reaching for the nurse's hand; by then, he'll have been shown by example or will have been told by a classmate or older kid that it's very uncool to hold the nurse's hand and walk down the hall together; but for now, in his mind, it was perfectly acceptable, and perfectly comforting.

My husband tells me I sometimes have the tendency of internalizing things; I couldn't help it here. All I could think of was my Tommy, and how he comes up to me at random times during the day and hugs me tight, and kisses my hand, and tells me that he loves me, and that I'm the World's Best Mom in the Whole Wide World. I know these days are drawing to a close, I just know it. That's part of life, the growing up part. And that's the part I'm still trying to come to terms with. To be loved, and needed, is such a powerful, wonderful thing. It's hard to imagine a part of that, however tiny, slipping away.

'Til next time.