The Children

The children are all so ridiculously beautiful.

There are maybe six of them on the screen, each one perfect, like a painting by a great master. Each one radiant, emitting light.

It’s 10:30 in the morning and Rachelle’s sister is about to lead them in a kind of video conferencing play session. The sky so blue outside, the sunlight pouring through the window. The children, all around four, are excited and unruly. Delighted to see and hear one another, even if only on video. Each child bursting with secrets that must be shared.

“I am not drawing a tree because I am drawing two E’s.”
“I like beans more than rain.”
“One day my mom hit a pigeon with her car and the pigeon stopped flying.”
“I’m a Werewolf!”
“My daddy said we can’t go to the park because of the Corona sands.”

And what will these children remember of this time?

I hope it’s this.

This love I feel right now. So powerful it’s almost a colour or scent.

This world, so strange, so astoundingly beautiful. Everyone pitching in to help one another. Raising barns in whatever ways they can. People becoming larger in crisis rather than smaller–more present. And these video glimpses of parents and their children, these small communications wash over us like the relief of good news. Like hope. And I need the children to remember that they were not alone, and somehow understand that life is a house built by the people you love.