In which I consider Fairies and Wonder

“When the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies.”

― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

Felicity is like the fairies of Peter Pan fame. According to Barrie, those little creatures can only hold one emotion in their tiny bodies at a time. When a fairy is happy, she is very, very happy and only happy. When a fairy is sad, then she is very, very sad.

A couple weeks ago, Felicity began smiling responsively. Her little eyes lit up and she’d positively glow. However, those glowing smiles turn almost on a dime into tears—many, many tears. So like a little fairy Felicity only manages to hold one emotion at a time.

More noteworthy then her ability to hold one emotion however, is baby wonder. Felicity is interested in the simplest things. For Felicity, waking up is wonderful. Most of the time it’s filled with smiles. Other times wonder is caused by the light reflecting on the books or the sound of water hitting the shower making her pause and look and listen. Or sometimes wonder is caused when she plays with her blanket, feeling the cloth in her fingers. She gurgles with delight.

This happens between the cries.

In Man Alive, Chesterton waxes eloquent on the wonders of having two legs. Fancy that—we have two legs that can wiggle and walk. Our little girl—our little fairy—reminds me to wonder at the ordinary.

Comments

Two Little Girls and a Bench

It was one of those moments before dinner in which I could have easily moved into the busy rush of dinner, clean-up, and bed-time, when I was stopped in my tracks. Isabelle, with her round face, and bright eyes, and fifteen month strength, clamored onto a bench and made it apparent to me that she wanted to jump from its one foot height with the help of my hand. I obliged and a game began, a game that was immediately joined by Emmaline, her three-year old sister, who does everything with full abandon. Soon, I found myself holding two little hands as two little girls jumped off a bench in unison. What joy this moment held for them. Again. Repeat. They would have jumped as long as I allowed. Each little face starlit with the joy of leaving the earth for one brief moment in the company of one’s sister and one’s mommy. Tonight I read in Chesterton’s Orthodoxy that, “Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want t...

A Leaf

A couple of weeks ago, I read “The Leaf by Niggle” aloud to five-year old Felicity. Since I was teaching on the story a few days later, I counted my inspiration to read-aloud as a double win towards homeschooling and teaching prep. Didn’t know that my five-year-old, would once again teach me. Tolkien’s short story follows the life of a Niggle, a painter, who envisions a glorious tree, but only manages to paint leaves, a paltry homage to his vision. About half-way through the story Niggle is sent on a journey, presumably death. After some time in a dismal hospital and workhouse, a train takes him to a familiar green space. As he wanders, wonderingly, he discovers it. The tree. His tree. Felicity turned to me as I read and she said with the joy of discovery in her voice, “Mommy! Did God make his tree real?” “Yes, Felicity. Yes, that is it. That is exactly it.” Tolkien and Lewis both thought that fairy-tales and myths, those bear...

On Soup, Vices, Babies, and the End of the Day

I’m sitting eating soup and hearing phantom cries. At least, every time I jump up the baby monitor confirms that the crying is only in my head. Today, with the rapt attention of my four-year old, I wrote a to-do list on our large kitchen chalkboard. I’m not certain if that was a good idea as the last to-do—a very large pile of laundry still looms a pants and onesies mountain or a shirts and socks field, pick your favorite metaphor of choice. But whatever your choice, it’s there. Strewn along my bedroom floor. Waiting. (Yes, the bed would be a better place, but the baby needed nursing.) The problem with a to-do list is that my biggest to-do, is to be with my three little ones. And really, that is not even a to-do, that is my life, my calling. The other problem with a to-do list is that tasks sometimes seem to stand in the way of just being, a woman, a mother, striving by the grace of God to grow in virtue, to model said virtue so that the little soul...

MuellerMommyAdventures

Search This Blog