It was just the reminder I needed.
The ‘why’ of why I came back to work in pediatrics;
the chatter and laughter of kids,
conversations at once so random, yet so focused,
bouncing from dads death,
to stepfathers incarceration
to “I spy”
to a new foster home
to shoes that light up when you walk
to guessing my age.
The guesses, btw, started out in the low 30’s
(got to love kids who don’t see wrinkles and grey hair the same way I do!)
and crept up to the 60’s in a matter of seconds.
When one of the kids guessed correctly (65),
I said, “That’s old, isn’t it?”
to which, in chorus,
they hastily replied,
“No, 70 is old; you’ve still got 5 good years left!”
I’ve missed the honesty and freshness of children’s take on the world –
and given all the drama these kids witnessed
before being placed in the foster care system,
it’s nothing short of a miracle
that they still laugh and chatter at all.
I spent hours today with kids who reminded me
about resilience,
the spirits ability to hang onto hope for a better day
and the gift of laughter.
It belied all the concerns I had about it being
Friday the 13th.
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