#innocence

ONCE THEIR INNOCENCE IS LOST

 

ONCE THIER INNOCENCE HAS BEEN SHOT

 

One of my favorite qualities in children…of which they are innately blessed

is the enthusiastic, unbridles innocence…which they all possess.

 

Children will sing because they’re happy…they’ll make up words to their own song.  

Children will spontaneously start dancing whenever music comes along.

 

Children will draw upon a canvas before they realize…it’s a wall.

Children will climb as high as they can before they realize…they can fall.

 

Children will run naked before they realize…there’s such a thing as shame.

And until we teach them differently…children treat everyone the same.

 

Our children need to be nurtured and protected…so their innocence can soar

but that’s not a job for children…that’s what adults are for.

 

So we ban books…ban learning the truth about our history…ban talking about our differences because our children’s innocence…we wouldn’t want to bruise it!

While at the same time allowing anyone to carry a gun…and praying they won’t use it!

 

Some people might think this is protecting our children’s innocence…But I, for one, do not…for how can their innocence survive…once their innocent has been shot?

 

So there is really no reason to ban books…

or history…

or acceptance 

as long as guns we think we all need them…

because soon…

there will be no children left to accept our differences

no children left to learn our history…

and when it comes to books…

they’ll be no children left to read them.

 

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PRECIOUS INNOCENCE

 

Children sing uninhibitedly when they’re happy…like they haven’t got a care.

Children will begin to dance spontaneously when there’s music in the air.

 

Children will climb as high as they can climb…before they realize they can fall.

Children will draw upon what they think is a canvas…before learning it’s a wall.

 

Children treat everyone the same before being taught this kind of thinking may be flawed…Children marvel at the heavens before they ever hear of God.

 

I recently listened to a brother talk about losing his sister…and everything from him this took…when, ten years ago,  he survived but his sister didn’t…the murders at Sandy Hook.

 

What struck me most as I heard him speak of the day the murderer and their paths crossed was how his innocence was taken…the same day his sister’s innocence was lost.

 

How she would never again sing or dance or draw upon a wall…

How she’ll never marvel at the heavens…climb too high…or fall.

 

“I was able to do all the things my sister never would.” Her brother sorrowfully exclaimed knowing from the moment she was taken his life would never be the same.

 

The more I listened to this young man speak about his life and his sister…now 10 years dead…I thought how the innocence we possess as children hangs from a tenuous thread.

 

How it can be lost in an instant like it was at Sandy Hook…taken by a gun in the hands of a maniac…and how once it’s lost…or taken…we never get it back.

 

Which means it’s up to those of us who understand…every woman…every man

to protect the innocence of our children for as long as we possibly can.

 

We know of ways that we can help…and with each new generation of children we get another chance….to allow them to innocently draw on walls, to climb, to sing….to dance.

 

But we keep failing our children…unable to work together on this problem…unable to unite….which makes me wonder how many more generations of children will lose their innocence…before we get it right.

 

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BUTTERFLIES JUST KNOW

It happened long ago and yet the memory lingers…the day a butterfly stopped to rest upon their daughter’s finger.

 

Somehow that butterfly sensed landing on that finger extended out…it was the perfect place to take a break…and she had nothing to worry about.

 

They have often wondered what made this butterfly decide, once their daughter’s finger she inspected…that in their daughter’s care she’d be safe…she’d be protected.

 

Was it the gentleness of their daughter’s touch or the smile upon her face that led that butterfly to believe there was no danger in that space?

 

That butterfly who, as everybody knows, was an insect fluttering wild…could she have somehow sensed the acceptance and the innocence in the child?

 

Is it possible she landed upon their daughter’s finger knowing she wouldn’t be caught?

Which made them wonder at the time if butterflies are more perceptive than they thought.

 

As they watched their daughter…from that innocent child grow…butterflies kept landing on her…because, they imagined, butterflies somehow know.

 

Perhaps butterflies possess an innate talent…one nature has always known…the ability to sense the kindness, the acceptance, the safety and the innocence…even when the child’s grown.

 

Which leads a person to wonder…

if the best way to choose our politicians…

would be to make everyone of them stand…

inside a butterfly garden 

and see upon which ones the butterflies land.

 
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A LITTLE BEAUTY AND INNOCENCE

 

This simple story I relate to you exactly as it unfurled…reminding me there is still pure beauty and innocence in the world.

 

A mother and her daughter entered the bookstore…at guessing ages I am poor…I know enough not to try to guess the mother’s age…but her daughter was five…or maybe four.

 

They browsed around the bookstore for a while…up and down every aisle they looked…then they exited the store…without purchasing a book.

 

I could see them talking outside the window…I imagine there was a lesson the mother wanted her daughter to learn…because a few moments later…by herself…the daughter had returned.

 

Soon she was at the counter…book in hand…and in a voice so pleasant and nice asked, “Sir, could you please tell me…this book…what is the price?”

 

I told her $4.99…she smiled then I said, “Wait! There’s more…with tax this little golden book comes to five dollars thirty-four.

 

She thought for a moment and this is my favorite part to reminisce…then held up a twenty dollar bill and asked, “Is the price of the book less than this?”

 

And I had to smile as I witnessed the beauty and the innocence in this little girl with her hair flowing down her back when I told her, “Not only is that enough…but you’ll be getting money back!”

 

Once again with her beauty and innocence now on full display…she smiled…handed me the twenty dollar bill, picked up her book…and began to walk away.

 

“Wait!” I cried as she walked away while still within my range… “I’m glad you have your book but you forget your change.”

 

I will remember forever her expression…it was a smile both innocent and grand….when I counted out fourteen dollars and sixty-six cents and put it in her hand.

 

I could see how her mind was working…how lucky she felt…I could tell…

Because after coming in with one bill…

she was leaving with her book….5 bills and 4 coins as well.

 

“I’m rich!” She said smiling at me.  “Richer than I was before….

I nodded thinking how we’re both a littler richer since she walked into the store.

 

As she left I silently thanked her for reminding me in this world there is beauty and innocence still….

a fact I will remember every time I find within my hands…a twenty dollar bill.

 
 
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INNOCENCE

 

There is a a purity born into every baby…an innocence that runs deep…I imagine every parent feels it whenever they watch their baby sleep.

 

We not only see it in the way they sleep…but in the morning when they rise…we see it in the way they look at us…it’s in their smile…in their eyes.

 

I saw it in my children and grandchildren…in the different things they’d say and do…and I imagine you’ve seen it in your children…and in your grandchildren too.

 

I’m also sure you’ve seen it even if you don’t have children…if that was never meant to be…because innocence is one of the easiest and most endearing sights our eyes will ever see.

 

Yes, if you want to view a little innocence…watch a child…listen to their sounds…you’ll quickly come to realize…that is…where innocence abounds.

 

And we’re not alone…nature also sees their innocence for why do you suppose…she allows the ladybug to crawl upon their finger…and the butterfly to land upon their nose.

 

But innocence is fragile and as the years go by 

if it’s not cared for…

if it’s not nurtured…

there’s a chance that it may die.

 

So I pray…once born…once created…once that innocence arrives…

we’ll do our best with all our children…to keep that innocence alive..

 

For I can think of nothing more distressing…

more tragic…

a more sorrowful expense…

than a child who’s lost their purity…

who’s lost their trust…

who’s lost their innocence.

 

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A CHILD'S MIND

 

Having worked in schools and now in a bookstore many children have come my way…and whenever I see a child I see innocence on display.

 

I love the way a child’s mind works….there’s no pretense…no deception…

I love their openness…their candor…love the innocence of their perception.

 

Recently I was again reminded of that innocence when a mother and daughter I had the pleasure to meet…they were in the bookstore when the mother noticed her daughter’s shoes were placed on her wrong feet.

 

When she mentioned this to her daughter…her daughter bent down and placed her hands upon her calves…“Don’t be silly Mommy,” she said, “these are the only feet I have.”

 

Her mother and I smiled at each other…knowing children see things differently…as they struggle to make sense out of the world they hear and see.

 

I wonder if a child’s mind…(of course this is just a guess)…

isn’t created to absorb love, and acceptance…and cultivate tenderness. 

 

I picture a child’s mind as vast…

and open…

and wherever it originates from…

the more love and acceptance that’s put into it…

the more open and tender it becomes.

 

As I watched her mother help her change her shoes…

and, thankfully, not her feet…

I secretly hoped this child’s mind throughout her life

would remain open

and

innocent 

and sweet.

 

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CAUGHT IN A DOWNPOUR

 

 

It was an unexpected downpour…that burst out of the sky.

The older couple huddled under their lone umbrella…trying to stay dry.

 

Until they saw two young girls…with a joy so beautifully unrestrained

laughing,

jumping, 

dancing…

playing in the rain.

 

The old man began to smile, held his arms out high…

then walked from under the umbrella..leaving his wife behind….

“Come back under here you insane old fool.” His wife demanded…

but the old man…he gracefully declined.

 

“Do not worry about me.” he said. 

“I am neither foolish nor insane...
It’s just...I had forgotten what it feels like…

to stand out in the rain.”

 

His wife closed up their umbrella…

and with a joy so beautifully unrestrained…

they laughed, 

they jumped 

they danced together…

playing in the rain.

 
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A BIRD CAUGHT IN THE RAIN

 

 

From the safety of his room…watching raindrops sliding down his window pane…he noticed a bird…perched on a branch…with no protection from the rain.

 

The more he watched…the more he thought…that bird needs caring for…so he put on his raincoat…grabbed an umbrella…and headed for the door.

 

“Where are you going with that umbrella?” His mom asked.  He said, “Don’t worry Mom…it’s not for me…It’s for a little bird…caught in the rain…whose sitting in our tree.”

 

And she could not help but smile…as raindrops inched slowly down her window pane…as she watched her son…holding an umbrella over a bird caught in the rain.

 

And she thought…how wonderful is a child’s innocence…it has it’s own beauty…it’s own rhyme…and how endearing is that innocence…whose only enemy…is time.

 

And she found herself praying that in him this innocence would never wane…as he waved to her while holding an umbrella…over a bird caught in the rain.

 

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WHEN I LEARNED TO RIDE

I was returning a bike to it’s home this morning…left out by a child who, no doubt, was remiss and as I pushed it along the sidewalk I began to reminisce.

 

Back to when I was a child…remembering what it was like…the day I learned to balance…the day I learned to ride a bike.

 

I remember the innocence…the freedom…riding without a care…I remember the smile on my face …I remember the wind blowing in my hair.

 

I’d ride for hours with my friends…friends with whom I’d grown…for once you hopped on your bike in our neighborhood…you never rode alone.

 

Our bikes took us on adventures that strengthened our hearts and soothed our souls.  We’d only stop to climb a tree…skip some stones…or dive into the swimming hole…

 

We loved to ride together through the ditches during a rain..

and if we fell and skinned our knees…we just ignored the pain. 

 

We learned to ride with no hands…down our street and all around…

We’d attach baseball cards to our spokes just to listen to the sound.

 

For when we heard those baseball cards…on whatever bicycle we were striding…no longer were they bikes…but motorcycles we were riding.

 

On our bikes is where we learned to be independent…it’s where we learned to pretend…on our bikes is where we learned what it means to be a friend.

 

At the doorstep of the house I set the bike down…gently on its side…and I thought how different the world is now than it was when I first learned to ride.

 

I’m not sure it was true…but when I visit those memories again and again and again…wasn’t the world a little kinder, a little gentler, a little more innocent back then?

 

Perhaps that’s why as I grow older I find it difficult to comprehend…how, though many people still remember how to ride a bike.…they’ve forgotten how to be friends..

 

How somewhere in the midst of living…they’ve forgotten how to be kind…

How without the  even realizing it…they’ve left their innocence behind…

 

Which makes me wish more people would remember exactly what it was like…

The day we found our balance…the day we learned to ride a bike.

 
 
 
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