Fearless Innocence

We have football, (soccer), practice every Thursday and Friday nights here in Maseru at a local, "football pitch." In American terms there is much to be desired with our little field. We even had to bury a decaying dog before practice a couple of weeks ago, but it serves its purpose and we have a semi-flat stretch of land on which to play.

I usually spend practices running around helping my husband and checking up on the players. Our youngest two sons spend the time jumping from the giant mounds of dirt, which surround the field. It reminds me of my childhood jumping on long rows of giant, round, hay bales. I admit, I do lose sight of Aron and Abe during practice, but never for too long.

Tonight, I could not find my boys, so I went in pursuit. I could not find them on the other side of the piles of dirt, so I began exploring other areas where I'd never seen them. It was not long before I heard their loud voices coming from an abandoned building just to the side of the soccer pitch. At first glance it appeared to be an old bar. The widows were all broken out and there were only bars covering all of the forgotten building's openings. I stood outside and yelled for my boys to come out. I wondered how in the world they dared to go into that place, let alone how in the world they actually GOT into that place. I watched them reemerge, one at a time, agilely contorting their bodies in just the right ways to pass successfully through the bars on the door. They were followed by a shadow of a Basotho child; there one moment, then gone the next.

I began to tell my two boys a cautionary tale about such places and why one should never enter them. Then, all at once, they both began to tell me why this particular abandoned, dilapidated bar in Lesotho was nothing to fear. My sons went on to tell me they had made a new friend and this was the child's home.  They were so in awe with their friend, because upon meeting this child, suddenly anything was possible! All this child had to do was find an old, inhabited building, and it became home. Abe and Aron were so excited about all aspects of their new friend's, "home," and began to describe all of the amenities, with wide, excited eyes.

My sons' abilities to see wonder, and even find happiness, in such circumstances convicted me. WOW! They did not pity their new friend. They chose to see the positive in this situation. Innocence is such a precious gift; one that should be guarded and protected with a fierceness, which matches its intensity. The day will come when my two baby boys see that nasty, old bar, and that child's life for what they really are, but for tonight I am perfectly content to tuck my boys into bed...allowing them to dream of how awesome it would be to make a home out of any old thing they could possibly imagine. My mother's heart hopes the child, whose reality this is, also has the ability to look at these circumstances with this same, fearless innocence.