Kids are amazing

Kylie is 11 and likes “My Little Ponies.” She tells me their names and describes who they are and what they like to do. She’s trying to decide which one to buy when they go to the mall today, so she rattles off their names: Twilight, Fluttershy, Applejack, Rainbow, Rarity and Pinkie. She has narrowed it down to two contenders. Oh, and she also plays a mean game of soccer.

“My friend told me ‘if I’m an athlete, I have to be tough. I shouldn’t like girly ponies,'” Kylie said. “They’re my soft side.”

“You’re like a matryoshka doll,” I said. “Got a tough outside, but the doll underneath is softer.”

Kylie didn’t know what matryoshka dolls were but she had seen nesting dolls that, when matryoshkna dollsyou lift the largest outer one, you discover others underneath of gradually decreasing size.

“I like to think we are made like this,” I said, thinking myself very wise. “We probably spend our whole lives discovering what is at our center.”

“Oh, I already know what’s there,” she said. “Kindness and gentleness.”

Gulp. Been schooled by an 11 year old. Fruit of the spirit, of course. Reminds me why God keeps giving me these kids. I got a lot to learn.

Thanks, Kylie.

PS She picked Applejack because she loves apples.

About wlebolt

Life comes at you fast. I like to catch it and toss it back. Or toss it up to see where it lands. I do my best thinking when I'm moving. And my best writing when I am tapping my foot to a beat no one else hears. Kinesthetic to the core.

Posted on July 25, 2014, in Body, Instinct, Life and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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