For The Little One Who Loves

Instead of using the bridge to cross over the public garden's pond, businessmen in suits and women in heels clobbered their way to the other side, digging into the thin, murky ice.

Some slid along with their tennis shoes flat to the ground, and one man in particular ice skated ringlets along the edges where the ducks once came near my side in the summer, begging for a piece of my Upper Crust pizza. And although I walked over the bridge toward the musicians strumming and humming on the other side, I couldn't stop myself from grinning. The joy this moment brought was unthinkable from the depths of the subway tunnel.

I decided to take a new route home after the discordant strums of work. There was a little girl in baby blue sparkle pants and her mother, drinking coffee and holding large oversized holiday bags in her other hand. The little girl had blonde hair and kept her jacket unzipped on this rather cold night. She had two front teeth that opposed eachother's growth, as though they were magnets repelling. I loved her for the smile she gave me. We sat together on the train going upground, mesmerized by the moon's beam along the Charles River. Even after five years of being in Boston, nothing about the ride over the Charles River gets boring.

And as we got off the train and settled on a bench for the bus, the little girl spoke to me. "Do you know my name?" she said.

Precious.

"No," I said.

She squirmed on the bench. "DEVON!" she squeaked, holding her hands over her mouth after shouting.

I told her how fitting the name was for her, and that I have never met a Devon with blonde hair like hers. The interaction thrilled her. She was delighted to engage in a small conversation about my hat, the weather, and hockey. I didn't know much about the sport but for this little seven year old it was all the rage. She paused though, for a moment.

"Did you know there's people that don't have homes?" she said.

Children are so aware and honest. I told her that yes, I did, and that I loved them.

Her nose wrinkled up into an adorable little grin! She said, "You looove them?! Do you love me?!"

And as casually as the little one asked and offered love, I gave it. Her mother was on the phone near by, and I didn't want to make it awkward but I didn't want to miss this beat.

"Yes, very much" I said.

We took the bus all the way to my stop, where I regretfully said my goodbyes to her from afar, waving and winking at her as the bus door opened. My wink made her squirm with delight in her seat, grabbing her mother by the arm and pleading with her to say goodbye to me too.

And when I got off the bus, I knew that what I said was true. My love for her was instantaneous. Just as it is for anyone with their heart in the right place, and especially for those who are looking for their path. I love and forgive all and wish her mother strength, love and happiness. I know that they will find this light and that they are protected by the mighty wings of the Universe.

We are all safe, warm, and loved. And I think back on all of my choices in life...the moments that saddened me and the ones that brought me to where I am now. Each a beautiful puzzle piece to add to my collection of lessons. What I am capable of is the kind of love that makes my heart soar for the children that know no limits, and the ones that want to fly.

This is who I truly am.

And it is in these moments that I see the God in all of us. I imagine the little one crossing the pond... not slipping or sliding but ever so gracefully gliding along, taking her time to grow out of her troubles, just as we are all meant to do.

I will love her for always.