When my nephew was four years old, he came over to my house one evening so I could babysit. I knew initially that our evening together would ultimately involve chasing, wrestling, and hide-and-go-seek.
While we were engaging in this normal banter of kidding around – no pun intended, something occurred that momentarily sidelined our amusement.
One moment he was charging at me with a look of sheer determination in his eyes,
and the next thing I knew, he stopped mid-kick (his attempt at kick boxing, I think).
Deflecting one of those kicks, I accidentally elbowed him above his left eye. When I realized he was struck, I surveyed his face for any bruising, cutting, or bleeding. I could not find any puncture marks or swelling in that general area.
What I did see, though, surprised me. My sweet,, inciteful nephew, who evidentally sustained no physical pain beyond the initial contact, was still very upset. When I questioned him if I hit him in the eye, he said no. Yet, tears welled up in the window of these adorable eyes and I knew something was bothering him.
While he was looking at me with alarm, though he had assured me he wasn’t in any physical pain, I asked him what was troubling him.
With a trembling voice and moist look, he pointed to his tears and said: “What is this water?” My heart welled up with endearment as I concluded that he was more concerned about the nature of the tears, than he was about any pain.
I knew he had cried many times before, but maybe this time he was becoming more aware of his bodily functions. Anyway, my mind went into high gear and I scanned my memory bank for a response which would satisfy his need to know. He was not inquiring about the whys; his detailed thought process sought for the what.
So, as I peered into his innocent face, my thought turned to a faucet and that image provided me with my answer. I explained carefully what a faucet’s purpose is, and the following is my recollection of that explanation:
I said: “You know, when water comes from our eyes it is like water coming through the faucet. When you take a bath the water cleans what is dirty and you feel better when you are done. It’s just like the water under your eyes. These tears wash away the hurt you feel, like when I hit you near your eye.”
Immediately upon that statement, my nephew sprung up to his old self; the tears dried up and we were back to our antics. It was like nothing had occurred in the first place.
I guess children and kids of all ages are not always seeking the overall scheme of the universe. Sometimes they need the small pieces of its puzzle to mirror the process of life. I am so glad my nephew asked that question. I’ve never looked at a faucet the same since.