I’m tired of clutter. It clogs up my thinking, and sometimes, my house.
That’s why, when my husband gave me a gorgeous new camera for Christmas, I asked if he would mind if I gave my oldest camera to a little girl. The oldest one is still a good camera, as far as cameras go, but Big Red replaced it (and he’s in the kitchen) and the Christmas gift replaced Big Red. My cell phone goes with me everywhere else. And the husband has a cell phone and a very nice fit-in-the-pocket camera too. That’s five cameras for two people, enough by any standards, isn’t it? Things should be neither hoarded nor tossed if they can still be used.
“Isn’t she, like, four-years-old or something?”
After a bit of reconnaissance, and some reassurance that it would indeed be fine, we took the camera with us when we visited. The little girl came willingly with me to a quiet space so I could show her. Show her the two buttons she needed to get started. Zoom in. Zoom out.
“Thank you, Miss Crystal,” she said, volunteering a quick hug.
Her mother was surprised, I think. Yet, she’s a woman who teaches her daughter exploration. Allows imagination. Encourages wonder. Earns and gives respect. She lets her daughter be who she is, and who she is becoming. That wisp of whimsy and mischief doesn’t make it easy sometimes. But then, what kid does?
Yesterday, the mother sent me this.
I’ve looked at it a hundred times already. Four-year old arms outstretched to catch the sky. She will, too.
“Sure,” I think. “That gift was all for her.”