Through the Eyes of a Child

      I can't say that Christmas is always all about children, because I have had many Christmases without children that were as good as any other, but the best thing about Christmas for me this year was certainly the children: my granddaughter and her cousin, ten and eleven years old, respectively, two little girls just on the brink of adolescence and full of the imaginative play that makes childhood – and Christmas – so magical.

     I love to witness that creative play, but to participate in it is to have the privilege of looking more deeply again into the magic world of childhood. I played with the children this Christmas as an adult, not as a child, but this glimpse of the world through a child's eyes is the most wonderful thing children give us.

      The first enchantment from the children was the "mini bookstore" they created by standing a refrigerator box on its end and cutting in it a window and a door, outfitting it with a shelf in the back for books and a counter in front for customers, and opening for business. Buyers first had to earn "book bucks" and coupons to get money to buy books. I swept fallen needles from under the Christmas tree and straightened up the shoes people had left by the door as they came in, for which I earned enough book bucks to buy two books. The store was a confusing blend of a library and a bookstore because I was told I would have to bring the books back in 48 hours, even though I had paid for them with book bucks. I tried to bargain for more time, but the proprietors were firm. I did manage to read both books – Long Walk to Water, by Linda Sue Park, about the Lost Boys of Sudan, and A Monster Calls, by Patrick Ness, about a boy dealing with his mother's cancer – within the allotted time. (If the girls were allowing me a glimpse of the creative play of children, I hope that both my quick reading and my enthusiasm for these books was a glimpse for them into the long-lasting pleasures of good reading in adulthood.)

      Sometimes the frenzy of opening Christmas presents can taint the magic of Christmas with children, so we, in this family paced the excitement more slowly. We each opened one present on Christmas Eve, and on Christmas Day we had breakfast first, then opened presents at a leisurely pace. My granddaughter had made a candle for me and also gave me a large alder leaf she had picked to add to the 75 leaves I am collecting for one of the items on my 75x75 project (see thingstodoinmy75thyear. blogpsot.com.) Her gifts reminding me of the homemade gifts I used to give my family while I was growing up.

      During the days before and after Christmas presents, we played games, mostly card games – blackjack, Sushi Go, slapjack. Snow added its own magic to the holiday. Christmas afternoon, my granddaughter, my son, and I walked into the street to throw a football around in the snow. The next day the two girls and I played hide-and-seek in the house for hours.

      I am no longer a child and don't want to be a child again, but I feel privileged and grateful when children include me in their world. That world belongs to them, and I love entering it with them, as an adult. Where there is pain I hope to soothe it, from my adult's perspective. Where there is confusion, I hope to provide clarity (though not in the difference in libraries and bookstores; that confusion was part of the charm of the game). And where there is magic, I hope to absorb it from them.