The Child

The child ran through the park - moving from swings to slide to monkey bars.  The sun was shining, the sky was blue.  It was the type of day that only exists in childhood memories.

A shot ripped through the perfect canvas of that day.

The child froze. 

Another shot.

The adults came running.

Another shot.

They checked the child.

No physical harm had been done.

Where were the shots coming from?

The adults ran throughout the park, trying to identify and isolate the cause of the shots.  The child remained rooted in one spot.  Each adult would return to the child to check in, to reassure, to hold onto.......more for themselves than for the child.  Then back out they would go.

As the sun began to lower in the sky the adults returned - one by one - to gather around the child.  Out of their fear, they began to argue.  Their shouts filled the park and rose above the child.  Their protective circle turning into boxing ring where they began to throw punches with their words, turning on one another rather than towards one another.

Blame was cast everywhere - the hope being that it would land furtherest from where they were standing.  Anywhere but upon themselves. 

On and on it raged while the child cowered below them.

The arguing continued for quite some time. 

And then..........there appeared a man. 

He weaved his way through the angry adults who by now had organized and had picket signs and the media had come and was filming the adults as they shouted and protested and argued with one another.  He seemed to create space all around him as he moved that allowed him to find the child in the midst of all the anger, fear and confusion.  He knelt down next to the child and drew a tic tac toe board and a big "X" in the middle square.  This man was kind but he was not dumb, he knew the best place to start.

The child looked up and grinned.  He knew this game.  He drew an "O" in the top left corner.  The man drew an "X" at the top in the middle.  The child drew an "O" in the bottom middle in order to stop the man from winning.............but then the man drew an "X" in the top right corner.  Victory was his.

They played again and again while the adults continued to shout and rage.  Each time the man won the game.  Soon the child became bored of the game and looked at the man with questioning eyes.  The man simply nodded.  He turned to write a few words in the ground with his finger, then he grabbed the child's hand and led him through the crowd until they were free of the throng of people.

It had turned dark by now and so the man turned towards the child and offered him his hand, beckoning him to follow him.  The child grabbed ahold of the man's hand and allowed him to be led towards the lights at the far end of the park.  There beneath the lights the man and the child sat on the swings - seeing who could go higher, who could twist the most times and taking turns pushing one another when their legs grew tired from pumping. 

The shouts and the anger born out of fear seemed to grow more and more distant as the man and the child played.  The child began to tell the man about his family, his life, his school.  The man just listened.  The more quiet the man was, the more animated the child.  Soon he began to share his own fears and worries........and the man listened.  It seemed that no matter what the child said there was no reaction from the man.  He just continued to listen. 

Then another child appeared.

And another.

And another.

And another.

They began to swing and play and have contests.  There was a bit of fighting for attention, fighting for swings, fighting for "the win" but eventually it would get sorted out in the presence of the man who listened and loved well. 

The children began to tire and yawns began to multiply and soon it was time to leave............but there appeared one more child.

The child's head drooped down, their chin touching their chest.  Big tears dropped from their face and yet this child's fist was clenched and when they raised their head, their eyes burned in their face.  There was such rage in those eyes. 

The child's other hand held a gun.

The children froze.

The man stepped forward, shielding the children.  Slowly but without hesitation - his eyes filled with love and his arms open wide - he walked towards the child.............