MY GENTLE LITTLE MAN

Come on Grandma!

There he is . . . Little man Smith. Only two and a half years old but way much older in personality and intelligence.  And in awareness and compassion.
Probably the last thing you would think is that he is gentle. As he drives his motorized motorcycle across the living room and den, careening off walls while chasing the cat the word GENTLE does not come to mind. Neither would you think "gentle" as he scales the bar stool by the kitchen counter to climb up and over to get to the kitchen cabinets to see what treasures he might find. Neither is he gentle when playing MONSTER TRUCKS with grandma and daddy and trucks are flying every which way. But take him for a walk around the block and come across a worm stranded on the sidewalk in the hot Florida sun and this little guy is all over it with gentleness.
There we were, walking along hand in hand when this little voice says, "Grandma, a worm!" And so we stop to check it out. No matter whether the worm is full dead after 3 days baking in the sun so that it is near to petrified, or whether it still has a breath of life in it Smith has to stop and gently pick it up to examine it. The worm then gets a royal funeral or a return to the grass to live another day, depending on what Smith deems necessary. Grand pa's instinct is to step on worms and here is this little 2 year old being so gentle with one of God's creatures.
I remember the year from Hell when I returned to work after my kids were in college. I took a job in a day care center on Long Island and HATED every minute of it. The kids were great, 3 and 4 year olds who were spending most of their lives in the care of strangers. There was one little guy named Connor who was built like Smith. All muscle and brawn but none of the tenderness that my little man has. One day the class and I were taking a nature walk around the building and Connor found a worm. Just as he was ready to jump on it to mash it into the sidewalk I grabbed his arm and stopped him. Right there we had a lesson on all God's creatures, great and small. I remember the look on Connor's face as we talked about how the worm was ALIVE, just like us. And how we cannot hurt things (or people) who were smaller than us. (Connor did have the potential to be a bully) Connor listened and then picked up the worm and put it in the grass.
I figure Connor must be in college by now and I often wonder what sort of young man he has become. Did the "worm talk" stay with him? Who knows. All I know is my little man Smith doesn't need anyone to have a talk with him. His parents are doing a good job and this little guy has some mighty grown up, wonderful traits about him.
I'm proud of my son and his wife for doing such a good job teaching Smith about life as well as ABC's. And I am proud of Smith for taking all this to heart and being such a wonderful little guy.