Friday Five: A Different Take on Babies and Beyond


Some folks go gaga over babies.  They love their newness, their smell, their roly-polyness.  I am not one of them.

images-1Give me a fifteen-year-old any day.  I like their rawness, their honesty, their in-betweenness.  And I love their inventive minds.  They see the world in so many different ways.

I can go gaga over a toddler too.  I like the way they set their jaw and go.  How do they dart in so many directions simultaneously?

Sit down with an eight-year-old.  Talk with them.  Hear their questions.  Watch as they discover and then digest human possibility and human folly.  Let their delight in the world around them stir joy in your heart.  Share their sorrow as they begin to experience the darker side of our shared past.

I spent almost thirty years working with kids.  Imagine–having not one but many childhoods.  Imagine–sharing not one but many teenage years.  I know there are some folks who would say, “I rather not imagine that much less experience it.”  But me–I loved those years I spent with teenagers and the years spent with younger ones as well.

I still shake my head in awe as I remember a fifteen-year-old girl comparing the events leading up to the American Revolution to Julia Childs making a souffle and then writing to Julia Childs about the connection she had made.  And getting a letter back!

imagesI treasure the memory of two eight-year-old boys up early one morning.  One was holding a jar.  The other a stick.  Both were leaning into a tree trying to move tiny insects into the jar.  Each time they made a catch they shrieked with joy.

The sadness I feel when I remember a bi-racial seven-year-old boy learning about Rosa Parks and the Montgomery Bus Boycott and wondering to himself where he would be on that bus as the shades lifted from his eyes and mine as well.

Sandra Cisneros once wrote,

What they don’t understand about birthdays and what they             never tell you is that when you’re eleven, you’re also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three, and two, and one. (Eleven, Sandra Cisneros)

I think Cisneros is on to something.  We are all the ages we have ever been.  The trick is plugging into the gifts of each of those ages and carrying them forward into the present moment.

This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Friday Five: A Different Take on Babies and Beyond

  1. bookgirl says:

    I love the 15-year-olds, too. (One of my pet peeves is people saying, when they see your baby or toddler, “wait until they’re in high school.” I get that being a parent of a 15-year-old will be different than being a favorite teacher or church friend, but I taught high school for a reason!! Rant over.) Beautiful post. Every age is amazing. Madeleine L’Engle also talks about being every age. –Wendy

    • revalli says:

      Wendy, where does Madeleine L’Engle talk about being every age? Love her writing. Would love to find that quote.

      • bookgirl says:

        I think she says something similar more than once, but this is from The Irrational Season, third paragraph of chapter 2:
        “If I am to write about young people in my novels, as well as those my own age, it is essential that I remember exactly what it was like to be young. I have sometimes been asked if my protagonists are based on my children; no of course they are not; I would not presume to write out of my children. My protagonists, male and female, are me. And so I must be able to recall exactly what it was like to be five years old, and twelve, and sixteen, and twenty-two, and…For, after all, I am not an isolated fifty-seven years old; I am every other age I have been, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven…all the way up to and occasionally beyond my present chronology.
        (Her children might debate part of this, but that’s another story. Also, I did not skip a section–the ellipses are hers)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s