the dance of the ink riddled fingers

bridge over troubled waters

Posted in pin the tail on the love by enisea on 21/10/2011

There’s one four year old, of my fifty, who lavishes me in more affection than all my loved ones combined.   One look at her and her face cracks to beam out a radiant smile, one sentence and she erupts into laughter.  From hiding behind her mother and refusing to look at me, to hiding behind me, grabbing the back of my clothes, searching for my hand to hold, clinging to my leg, running around me in circles followed by ceaseless giggles…I feel honoured to be such a blessed recipient! 

Try kneeling down to have a stern talk with one misbehaving kid with another beautiful four year old learning over your back, face on your shoulder sporting an ear to ear grin that you have to pretend not to notice from the corner of your eye in order to maintain firm teacher authority where appropriate.

Anyway, we were leisurely packing up an activity and I stopped to attend to another child, so that by the time I turn back, the mess is cleared and there stands a stunning child with the biggest eyes and an expression frozen on the verge of laughter, just waiting on my response.  Here, I usually draw in a happy gasp, don an appreciative smile and especially animate the accolades (“did you just pack all of that up when I had turned around?REALLY? You, are such a gem!”) to which she would’ve thrown her head back into contagious laugh at my happy gasp.

She handed me this today, and when I just asked what this was for, she just smiled.  The other 80% of children with me this afternoon were less inclined to listen and weren’t exactly evoking my most pleasant side, but she sort of melted me.

Sometimes we don’t need to hear the every detail.  Sometimes words don’t capture everything – as much as I think words are the most powerful and penetrating outlet – sometimes the absence overwhelms volumes more.  I wouldn’t know very much about it, I talk too much.  Sometimes it’s more amazing not being completely sure of why we might receive gifts or why we might be loved.  I love the simple reasoning, “just because”.  It is by far the most curious reason. 

No, not because it’s your birthday, or you did a good thing for me, or… I’d like you to do a good thing for me. Not because I saw it and thought of you and that you might like it, or because you seemed to be having a hard time.  Not because you said you wanted it and didn’t have the cash at the time, or because you like anything with frogs on it.  Not because indigo is your favourite colour or because you are the most severe case of chocoholicism I’ve ever known. But just because.

Curiousity is a wonderous thing, the imagination is a wonderous thing.  Honest to goodness, I have no idea what qualified me to be the subject of one four year old’s adoration, even if only for two and a half hour sessions at a time.

“Why do you love me?”
“Just because.”

What if we could never know why we were loved, and could then never try harder to be more loved because we were loved for a reason undisclosed and unknown to us.  What if every reason somebody said they loved you for, wasn’t reason enough and it made you think lower of their love for you than it actually was/is, but they actually didn’t know why they loved you.  It was always just because.

Every person we love, we have reason not to love.  So why do we chose to love? [Reverse also]

“Just because.”


2 Responses

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  1. Charlie said, on 22/10/2011 at 7:21 AM

    that’s really beautiful ~
    btw have u read the book “crazy love” francis chan?
    i think you’d like it, the blurb sounds like smthg you coulda written too lol ^^

    • enisea said, on 22/10/2011 at 12:42 PM

      thanks charlie! i know it’s really beautiful, but Bridg’s drawing is not for sale!
      hahaha, rereading that, i admit slight embarrassment…the concept is beautiful, but my restless writing, not so much this time.

      no, haven’t read “crazy love” (I find living it is much more eventful). I hardly read. alas, I much prefer writing than reading and am a better talking than listener… not exactly something i’m proud of, or recommend.

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