Posts Tagged ‘frogs’

lyla on trackDear Lyla,
One of the things that I love most about you is your unconditional acceptance of everyone you meet. It seems that you never meet a stranger and your heart is an ever-expanding space. Such unbridled acceptance comes with it a willingness to suspend your disbelief and embrace wild tales. Daddy finds your enthusiasm for a well-spun tale both delightful and disturbing; to this end he has tried to teach you the art of sarcasm and debate at a tender age. When I was young I too was more apt to believe someone than to question his or her motives; your Bumpa warned me that my gullibility would not end well. Unfortunately for me, your Bumpa was somewhat of a soothsayer in this regard. I would fall for the same line over and over again; always disappointed that things did not end differently. Sometimes my willingness to buy a story was based on fear. I recall one summer in particular when your Aunt Patti targeted my squeamishness for her own personal gain. She and I would always have chocolate milk at night in the table in front of the window, which Grandma Jo kept open to cool the living room down. When I wasn’t looking Patti would hit her knuckles (so I was told when I was older) on the underside of the table and declare, “A frog just jumped through the window and landed in your milk!” I would bring my gaze back to my glass, which would still be rippling from the hard knock to the wooden table. Horrified I refused to drink my milk. Patti would bate me and dare me to drink the frog-flavored concoction. In my resolution I would shove the glass at her demanding that she drink it if she was so brave; which she did, deliberately, slowly and dramatically. As you might have guessed, there was no amphibian to be found at the bottom of the glass. We repeated this one act play many times over the summer until at last Grandma Jo intervened on my behalf. Bumpa used to tease me about being gullible and warned me that it would some day be my downfall. In some ways Bumpa was right, I can be too trusting and ignore the ache in my gut that signals a warning. On the other hand, if we become too cynical we may lose our ability to show empathy to others. I choose not to live in a world where there aren’t second chances; I suppose the price for that is a level of vulnerability. My hope for you Little One is that you maintain your ability to accept others for who they are and that you have the wisdom to know when it is time to give someone an opportunity for redemption.  Keep that heart of yours open Little One; someone, somewhere will need it some day.

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