Raising a Thoughtful Child: an Ode to Ari by Mel Moss
There are many thoughts that come to mind when a parent is asked to describe how they feel about their child. The list is an endless variation of love, amazement, frustration, fear and so many more. I wonder if many mothers can add Envy to that list. For that is how I feel on a daily basis about my Ari.
Its a strange concept, to be in awe of ones own child but 'tis the truth of it and the number one emotion that overtakes me when I am near her. She makes me want a second chance at youth so desperately, that sometimes I can't breathe with the disappointment that is me when I'm standing next to something so pure and perfect.
This infinitely old soul who at five is so much kinder than I ever was at that age, let alone now, when I know deep down, that any part of me that is truly good is a result of her. A child so full of wisdom, to tell her mother that it doesn't matter how we feel about someone mummy its what we do for them that lets them see.
Trust me Dear Reader when I tell you, I know about a mother's Love. He is walking around all golden curls and plump thighs giggling maniacally while I write. This is different. What I see in Ari is a radiance, a light that shines so bright that one day I know with everything that I am, that its incandescent spirit will set the world on fire.
I watch her as an onlooker. Just a shadow of my own worlds dreams I am now, observing this young girl standing on a spotless beach. Not a mark on the sand in front of her, just a path, occasionally shifted by plump waves before it settles back all pristine white again.
A born leader, she settles disputes in the playground with a sweetness and diplomacy sadly never seen on the world stage. And yet this girl, this changeling babe flung into our world at the hands of some naughty imp one wild night in February gathers followers to her like a forgotten piper from a fairytale. I've seen it. Adult and child alike unable to resist her enigma. Ten year old boys dropping their games to protect her innocent arms from the tears of a rose bush.
She is a Special. And I will stand behind her to shoulder the burden of protecting and nourishing her pure light against a world that will fire at will to try and crush her. But I know oh yes I do that it will not succeed. She has a gift.
Mel Moss