"Jesus will come and clean up all this rubbish one day," my cousin's five year old son noted, observing the neighbours' decrepit backyard. "True," I replied, "Someday."
What about the experience of age makes us jaded about things we should be expectant about? Someday? How about being more enthusiastic about believing that it could happen today?
He then picked up a clothesline clip and stuck it on my arm. "Does it hurt?" I didn't budge - a typically stoic male attitude we adopt when it hurts but we pretend it doesn't.
"Are you stronger than Spiderman?"
"I don't know, buddy. I never had to fight him."
In his young mind, he equated my non-retaliation to superhuman qualities. I wish a clothesline clip stuck on my arm was all it took to save the world.
My young protégé in backyard observations walked up to his dad, "The three strongest people I know are: God, Spiderman and Jem Jems." I know where he picked up that name for me. It seems to have stuck.
Strength may be quiet, but never passive. Even an alpha lion may laze around his pride, but just his presence offers assurance. Little children need that from us, society needs that from us - for men to be present, to be engaging and offer their strength. In the least way, just by sticking around.
I type my closing statement as my cousin's younger, two-year old prances around in a t-shirt that announces, "Best thing since sliced bread!"
What about the experience of age makes us jaded about things we should be expectant about? Someday? How about being more enthusiastic about believing that it could happen today?
He then picked up a clothesline clip and stuck it on my arm. "Does it hurt?" I didn't budge - a typically stoic male attitude we adopt when it hurts but we pretend it doesn't.
"Are you stronger than Spiderman?"
"I don't know, buddy. I never had to fight him."
In his young mind, he equated my non-retaliation to superhuman qualities. I wish a clothesline clip stuck on my arm was all it took to save the world.
My young protégé in backyard observations walked up to his dad, "The three strongest people I know are: God, Spiderman and Jem Jems." I know where he picked up that name for me. It seems to have stuck.
Strength may be quiet, but never passive. Even an alpha lion may laze around his pride, but just his presence offers assurance. Little children need that from us, society needs that from us - for men to be present, to be engaging and offer their strength. In the least way, just by sticking around.
I type my closing statement as my cousin's younger, two-year old prances around in a t-shirt that announces, "Best thing since sliced bread!"