Jack’s Mid-Missouri-Memory: A Kid’s Life of Discovery: Including the Pleasure of Dirt

When I was a boy nothing fascinated me more than a stretch of open dirt. It was like a blank canvas waiting for an artist. I am glad to learn that little boys are still the same when it comes to playing in dirt. At the present time there is a big dirt circle in my back yard where the above ground pool has been removed for the winter. To a grown up it is an ugly place where grass should be, but to my grandson Aiden it is a world of possibilities. A place where bulldozers made of sticks and big trucks that are actually rubber ducks plow imaginary roads over its surface. Only a child’s limitless imagination can see the endless possibilities of that circle of dirt, and spend hours building them.

It has been too many years since I played that way, but I can still remember doing so. I also remember that the boundless energy of youth can not be controlled by a mother or grandmother telling a child to stop or slow down, but a circle of dirt seems to have that power. As I watched my grandson explore the many mysteries he sees in the compacted dirt, I long to feel that sense of discovery again. It is wonderful to watch a child as they are surprised at every corner I turn.  We have all gone through our lives discovering things the same way my grandson is doing now, but as we grew older the thrill of discovery has been replaced with the knowledge that we have seen it all before. A butterfly is no less beautiful than when we first saw it through the eyes of a child, but now we barely give it a glance as it flutters by.

The feel of a warm summer rain that causes a child to squeal with delight, and turn his face up to catch the drops, makes those of us afraid of getting wet run for the porch, and watch in the dry. If we are fortunate enough to have children around us, we can at least enjoy their discovery of life. There is a look of wonder that comes over Aiden’s face as he looks at something new to him, that I have seen a thousand times, and for just a minute it is new to me too. A worm that simplest of God’s creatures has the power to hold him transfixed as it wiggles in his hand. A dead bug must be turned over so it can be studied more closely.  It is a natural thing, to become jaded as we grow older, but thank God we have children come along now and then to show us the wonders of the world that a circle of dirt still contains.

A Note Here: When I came across this memory the other day I was surprised as I read it, to realize I that I had written it 8-years ago when Aiden was just 2-years-old. At 10 now things don't surprise him as often, just as they don't my 15-year-old grandaughter Shelbi: but as my wife and I sit on our front porch enjoying a nice breeze, and our coffee of a morning, we can still see them as their younger selves running through our yard picking up things new to them, and squeeling with delight at each new discovery.