The Maker decided man needed to learn humility. So he created the child. For the child is the only being who asks questions without answers, makes you test the limit of your possibilities, stretch it beyond what you thought was possible. A child is what you were when you weren’t scared of hurling yourself into nothingness. Yes, that is what you were when you believed in delirious possibilities, when you thrived on them. When you looked at the sky and knew for certain what was beyond, knew that at nightfall, you could read the messages the stars sent out. When you could lay awake for hours, listening to the music of silence. And create stories out of it. When irrationality won over reason, when getting shipwrecked on an undiscovered island meant the adventure of a lifetime. When cusses were the only things that could sully your reputation, or make it.
A child is what you were when hurt did not own you, when you could walk away unscathed and get on with your life, even after you’d lost your prized possessions. A child is what you were when you couldn’t hold your own in a fight, with fury as loud as thunder, and yet you gave in to make way for rain. A child is what you were when you were a bundle of possibilities, finding fulfillment in each moment. When you could laugh and forgive, fight and forget, surrender and win. A child is what you were when your tears were sacred, your sorrow unfeigned, and your words free from hatred. When you could see death and yet believe in hereafter. When you believed in living, not life. When trust was something unconditional and hope, like sunshine after rain.
A child is what you were when you didn’t want to be in control of things, and were ready to leave everything to chance and to the beauty of the dreams you’d dreamt.
Isn’t it ironic that we grow up, only to unlearn everything we really learnt on our own?