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Oceans Apart


 Strolling the beach of the Atlantic. My 21 year old daughter alongside. Who once, seeming to me not so long ago, was a wee one, exploring the same water with eyes the color of ocean. 

We come upon a toddler, standing knee deep in salty froth, for what was for us, ankle deep. 
His chocolate curls stark contrast to the blue sky. He is holding a red plastic beach toy. 

Behind him are his folks-who look to me to be grandparents. In the ocean-far too deep and far out for his liking, are his parents. Neither set was paying his deepest immediate need much heed. 
Which was-to fill his plastic toy with ocean water. 

He’s yelling to get attention, but no one hears. 

So I say, to the boy and to the memory of my toddler daughter, 

“I can help you fill that up. Would you like me to?” 

I reach my hand out. 

He looks up, with eyes as liquid as the sea, and nods, 

Yes. 

Expecting him to hand me the plastic toy, and solve his problem, scooping and filling in one easy swoosh, is exactly not what happens. 

When I say, “I can help you fill that up,” and I reach my hand out, he doesn’t place his toy in my palm…instead, he takes what he really needs. 

Instead…he takes my hand in his. 

And immediately, when my hand encloses his, he’s safe.
He has what he was seeking, to accomplish his task. 
He bends down, and scoops up the ocean. Never letting go of my hand. 

His brown eyes, then, look to me, proud and powerful for what he’s accomplished. His-the color of warm earth, contrast to my daughter’s blue eyes, the color of the sky. 
But they are, none-the-less, the same. 

Here’s to all those brave enough to ask. 
And braver yet, to accept what they need. 

They are those that remind us that we are all connected, even when it may seem, through  time or space, that we are oceans apart. 
#learningfromtheyoung 
Live Your Light

Live Your Light

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