Little Eyes

I remember watching a sunset with Ava and as we gazed out on the sea She asked if I would pick her up so she could see as good as me. “Why is that? ” I asked lifting her up as we admired the changing sky. “Because, ” she said through childhood innocence, “I have little eyes.” You have to love the way a child’s mind works, there’s no pretense no deception There is a candor and a frankness in the innocence of their perception. Like the little boy who’s mom is pregnant who looked like he’d be sick When his mommy said, “Hey Adam do you want to feel the baby kick? He learned a valuable lesson, this boy who’s only 5 When he jumped up and responded, ‘You mean that thing’s alive! ” There’s the memory of two brothers one mother shall always keep Of the night when one whispered to the other, “Tell me when you’re asleep.” When told her shoes were on the wrong feet a little girl’s response was short and sweet She said, “Don’t try and trick me mommy, I know these are my feet.” There are many stories of how our children view things differently As they try to make sense of a world through the little eyes they see. But eventually we all grow up...and I have to wonder at what cost For it seems to me as our eyes expand our innocence is lost. With little eyes we travel through the world without a trouble or care With bigger eyes we begin to see dangers lurking there... So the next time we watch a sunset I’m going to squat down to Ava’s size If she asks I’ll simply tell her...I want to see the world through little eyes.