Friday, August 16, 2013

Five-Minute Friday: Small

I'm linking up with Five-Minute Friday today because I've gotten out of the habit of writing without knowing what is going to happen. Lisa Jo Baker started this weekly writing prompt because she "had been thinking about how perfectionism gets in the way of our words." Writing for just five minutes without editing or backtracking reminds us that this is fun, that we can play with language the way we used to play with finger paint. What comes out might not always be profound, but it's always real...and that's why I do it.


It started because I’d been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing. - See more at: http://lisajobaker.com/five-minute-friday/#sthash.ExxgZLz4.dpuf
It started because I’d been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing. - See more at: http://lisajobaker.com/five-minute-friday/#sthash.ExxgZLz4.dpuf
It started because I’d been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing. - See more at: http://lisajobaker.com/five-minute-friday/#sthash.ExxgZLz4.dpuf

Small

It's the third one he's found, stiff and straight on the blacktop of the trail we've been wandering, the third in a group of what will eventually be six dead monarch caterpillars. He's examining each one carefully, poking with fingers that are still chubby even though they belong to an almost-official Kindergartner. He murmurs over their bodies, wondering how they died, why they're on the pavement instead of in the flower bed, if they will still turn into butterflies.

The questions and observations aren't as insignificant as they seem, and neither is he. 

The smallness of the world directly in front of him is enough to fuel his curiosity for an afternoon, but the places it takes him are as vast as the universe he loves to talk about so much. The demise of the unfortunate caterpillars leads to discussions about decomposition and ecology and soil and pollution and runoff from lawns to gutters to creeks and rivers and oceans. The stillness of what once wiggled confuses him...he wants to know if caterpillars go to heaven.

I can't answer him except to say that God sees the Small Things, all of them...the caterpillars, the feathers, the blades of grass, the ants and spiders and puddles and even the butterfly that got caught in our windshield wiper last week. God sees them. My son sees them, too, and thinks they are Very Important, and so we stop again (for the fourteenth time in ten minutes) to check out what he thinks might be an earthworm in a patch of grassless ground.

Who am I to hurry him past the small things, the ones I wouldn't even see if he hadn't stopped me to look at them? God's eye may be on the sparrow, but Sam's is on the ground in front of him, and what he sees there never fails to fascinate him. I focus my eyes on what might be the earthworm's head and remember out loud that it can't see anything.

Sam replies with conviction, "I sure am glad I can see stuff."









For more Five-Minute Friday, visit Lisa-Jo at the link below.


Five Minute Friday