THE AUTHENTIC LANE—Exploring Our Relationships. Discovering Ourselves.

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Remembering our Childlike Wonder

Photo by Elaine Klonicki

Do you recall waiting for Christmas to come when you were a kid? And waiting and waiting? It seemed to take forever. All of the holidays did. We were filled with excitement and anticipation for weeks beforehand.

The church services, the carols, the decorations…the nativity scenes, the trees, the lights. Truly it is a magical time of year, especially for little ones.

For the first time, we will have our three grandsons together with us for the holidays. We have one preschooler and two toddlers, and already I’m aware that the best gift we’ll get is the opportunity to view Christmas through their eyes. These years when they are little are so precious, and we know they won’t last long.

As adults it’s a rare thing to be able to witness sheer joy. We can’t wait to see their wild-eyed surprise as they spy what Santa brings them. To feel their enthusiasm as they dig into their stockings and tear open their gifts. To listen to their laughter and be on the receiving end of their big, squeezy hugs.

Whatever they feel, kids feel it unabashedly. At the end of our last FaceTime chat, our oldest grandson said, “I love you, Grammie!” with such enthusiasm, it made me melt. As a therapist once said to me, “Children give it for free.” He meant, I think, that they love unconditionally, with no strings attached. They’re fully open to the world.

I wonder what it would be like if we were still able to love that way?

Imagine putting aside our adult worries and frustrations, our disappointments and resentments, our opinions and judgments—all the things that divide us—and instead choosing to see the world through the eyes of a child.

To open our hearts and love as children love.

To get in touch with our childlike curiosity and wonder and approach others from that stance, as we have talked about here. To go back to a time in our lives before we became self-conscious and started to pull back and close ourselves off. Before we started to evaluate others so critically that we began to see ourselves as separate from each other.

It’s hard not to be discouraged these days when we look at our divisive world. It’s challenging to love those who think and believe so differently from us. But we seem to have forgotten about the many, many ways in which we are all similar.

We feel the separation we have created, and we’re sad about it.

But still I choose to be hopeful.

I take a long run view of humanity and know that whatever we are dealing with in the here and now is temporary. My dad was a man of deep faith, and he often said that “time is a great healer.” As a kid I sometimes didn’t know what to make of his philosophical offerings, but now I treasure the great wisdom in them. (Sorry it took me so long, Dad.)

A common thread across many of the spiritual books I’ve been reading in the last few years is the philosophy that we’re all connected, that what each of us does affects everyone else. If you watch TV or spend much time on social media you may not see much evidence for it, but I choose to believe that we are all brothers and sisters in one big family and we need to take care of each other.

In every interaction we have with others, we have the opportunity to strengthen that connection—to draw closer rather than pull back. To be like the little children, as Jesus said, and to “give it for free.”

Or, as my favorite bumper sticker says, “Love Everyone. Period.”

It requires us to dig deep, to get beyond our fragile egos that respond so quickly to perceived hurts. To look within and find that place where our loving spirits reside.

Each of us came into the world as a little babe who knew how to love unconditionally. We just have to learn it again. Thankfully, we can look to the children to show us the way.

Tonight, on this holy night, let us try again to open our hearts to each other and to keep them open as we look forward to the new year.

Merry Christmas! Wishing you all peace, joy, and love—today and always.

Affectionately,

Elaine