Remembering a Child’s Innocence

Remember when you didn’t think so much? Remember when you knew you didn’t know so much? Remember when you felt naive, curious, and unsuspicious, but not foolish?

Whenever I look at the face of a child I’m reminded of their wonderful innocence, their frankness and their fearlessness. They express their awe unabashedly. 

At the YMCA, where I work, I get a glimpse of those little people who walk in the door holding onto the hand of their mom or dad. They look up, they look around and notice what’s around them. Then their faces, without constraint, show wonder, curiosity and sometimes sheer joy at what surrounds them; a colorful banner, the rotating blades of a ceiling fan, or another little person in the play area.

It doesn’t take much before their curiosity is enlivened and they are expressing the wonder of it all.

Seeing a child’s innocence reminds me of the season of motherhood, when I was raising three innocent, open, and unsuspicious sons. Their naivete, the things they said, or the things they did broke down my defenses, making me chuckle, chortle and cackle. 

For instance, what mother does not make sure that their child eats properly? What mother does not protect their child from too much junk food. What mother does not curb their child’s choice at a snack food display pointing out the more nutritious items? I know I was one of those mothers.

 I think our oldest son was almost in kindergarten before I allowed any soda pop to touch his pure and beautiful lips. I’d poured a small amount of 7Up as a “special” treat in a glass for him and he exclaimed, “Mom, look, it’s raining in my cup.” 

Without constraint, a smile cracked open my stoic face and a chuckle erupted without constraint. Oh, the innocence and the wonder of our first born. 

Around the age of four, we finally got plumbing in our house. Finally, we had running water, a flushing toilet and a bathtub. Up until then, our son had been fearless about using the outhouse and I’d bathed him in a large metal tub dumping the water out in the yard. 

But that first bath in a real tub was something completely new for him. When I pulled the plug to let the water drain out of the tub, he jumped out of the tub as though in danger.

Standing on the bath mat watching the water go down the drain he said, “I don’t want to go where the water is going.” 

Without constraint, a smile cracked open my stoic face and a chuckle erupted without constraint. Oh, the innocence and the wonder of our first born. 

Why Bother?

Why bother remembering a child’s innocence? A child’s innocence is powerful enough to open the lock that safeguards our seriousness and reminds us to chuckle, chortle or cackle with little to no restraint.