Simple Thing

Once a week, Ruby, Freestone and I rock out. They each have a guitar lesson, after which we do something fun for a couple hours. Then they each have an hour-long group lesson, Freestone first. Spending that much time with the two guitar students is a luxury for me, made possible by everyone else holding down the fort at home.

While Ruby was in her group class, Freestone and I sat down to a brownie and a bag of Haribo raspberries at Cucina on Second Avenue. We were having a conversation about how Freestone "didn't have time to learn ANYTHING at school, actually." Free had valiantly tried to hold still and manage his unweildy guitar for the past hour, and he was oozing with energy as he organized his candies into a pattern. He started singing that song, "Oh simple thing! Where have you gone?" Only it came out in boisterous tones, "Oh thimple fing!! Wheh have you gone!?.." Then he fell off his chair.

My eyes filled with stinging tears at his innocence. Freestone popped up looking slightly alarmed at my watery eyes. I remembered something out of a book: "If a child is not the voice of God, God never spoke."

This simple thing, this straw-haired boy in the autumn light, is what every child is. A gift from God that we can hardly begin to deserve if we work our whole lives at it.

I said, "Freestone, I'm proud of you for being such a great kid."

He replied, "No you're not. You're crying."

Only because I just caught a glimpse of something simple: The divinity behind all the sound and fury of our lives.