True bravery comes with curls and a beautiful smile….
…..in the style of one princess, whom i had the great pleasure of visiting today.
What is it about childhood that…..captures our hearts?
Unselfishness. Innocence. Understanding. Love. Bravery. Truth. Compassion.
All those qualities “with a capital” to which Plato so longingly aspired …. to which we all so desparately aspire.
Yesterday, I spoke on the phone to a beautiful little girl. Seven years of age, lighthearted yet insightful, carefree yet poignant. She was to undergo a painful reconstructive surgery today and I wanted to wish her luck. She picked up the phone with “Taiyyaba Khala! Salamaliakum! I miss you!” I was so overcome by her joy that I couldn’t contain my laughter - the laughter, the simple joyous laughter that you can only hear echoing in your heart by the pure and innocent simplicity of a child’s happiness and compassion. I told her I’d come visit her tomorrow, after her surgery. “Because you go to the university near my hospital and you’re going to be a doctor.” Actually baby, I’m going to be a lawyer. “But there’s a hospital.” (it seems as if it doesn’t connect…why would i go to a university connected to a hospital if i was not intending to be a doctor?) Do you want me to bring you anything tomorrow? “Um, that’s up to you!” Alright, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Today I visited the beautiful little girl. I brought her flowers - wildflowers, of mixed tones, with one large yellow daisy in the center. Her smile lingered faintly on her lips, because hers is the kind of smile that never fades. But her eyes were a bit clouded - pain? fatigue? misunderstandings….to wit, though language is an inadequate mistress, something that children should not have to understand….ah but has ever anyone understood it better than a child! how insightful they are, how deeply they see into the lives of men! Her pain was obvious….and yet she faced it, strong, a warrior, a compassionate and comprehending diviner. I can’t truly understand it, comprehend it…so i joke…perhaps more to get my mind off of it than hers (for I am truly ashamed, disconcerted that she, a girl of seven, can understand it so much better than I, a woman of twenty). I tell her about all the other khalas who said to tell her “Hi” and that they love her. I remind her of our conversation last night….I tell her aunt that the girl wants me to be a doctor…no! she shakes her head violently, because she can’t speak until she recoveres. no. “not a doctor?” i ask? no. “a lawyer?” yes. she nods.
she remembered.
The Princess.
she wouldn’t take her pain medicine. just as well. she doesn’t need it.
I do.