Hope puts problems in the past

“It wasn’t me. It was Yvonne and someone else who was talking with my voice.” That was grandson Nicholas’ excuse when he received a reprimand for talking during class. My response is that Yvonne and the budding ventriloquist who was using Nicholas’ voice are very talented children.
This is the same little boy, who when told to count his Halloween candy, got all the way to 109 and decided that every number after that was “infinity.”  If I had been there I could have eliminated a few pieces of chocolate so he didn’t have as many to count. Personally, I think infinity was a perfectly acceptable answer.
 I think it is refreshing that imagination has yet to be eliminated from him. We spend so much time getting children to conform, to sit still, be quiet and regurgitate information on command, that we squash any imagination they may have.
 Yet, it is that very same imagination that gives us hope for the future. There was no malice intended in blaming Yvonne and her unknown friend. It was simply an attempt to divert attention away from himself.
 Living so far away from the grandchildren limits my meddling in their affairs. It severely limits my ability to raid their Halloween candy. On the other hand, it makes every message, every picture, that much more precious.
The pictures of the boys holding small snakes tend to give me the willies. My little brother used to do the same thing. We were down by the creek one day and my brother, Michael, found a pop can. When he shoved it in my face and said, “Look, Sissy. Look what I found,” a little snake popped out. I screamed and Michael laughed. I think of that every time I see Nicholas and Jacob holding snakes barely bigger than nightcrawlers.
Their antics remind me that the world is not going to Hades in a handbasket as all the doom mongers would have us believe. Yes, the world is a dangerous place. Yes, people continue to commit atrocities against each other. Yes, life is ultimately fatal.
Yet, the sun continues to come up every morning. The stars come out every night. Squirrels still use my garden as their personal buffet. Flowers bloom and fade away so that others may have their day in the sun. Young people still fall in love and create more people.
On days when I want nothing more than to curl up with a blanket and make everything disappear, something good always happens. It may be a note from a long-lost friend. It may be a laugh because the cat fell off the bed while trying to scratch an itch. It may be a child who cheerily calls out a greeting. It may be as simple as having enough milk on hand to make tapioca. Yes, I know some of you think tapioca is an indication that there is yucky stuff in the world. For me, it is a memory of childhood.
A long time ago I was at work, having a perfectly horrible day. A small bird lit on the ground at my feet. The opportunity to study that small creature gave me a chance to step back and remember that no matter the problem, this, too shall pass.
The point is, that all over the world, little children are coming up with novel ways of looking at life. As long as Yvonne and her talented friend continue to use Nicholas’ voice without his permission, there is hope that tomorrow will be filled with sunshine and laughter and an infinite amount of Halloween candy.