Of Bears and Penguins

More than a week ago I wrote that I was waiting to be sure of what I know. There’s been a lot of upheaval in the past several days. Little sleep and lots of bad coffee. And I am much closer to being “grown-up,” than I was before.

If I wait until I am sure of what I know then I will never write again. There must be some aspect of faith in one’s life. And sometimes that requires a step without knowing…

Knowing. Living. It all requires some amount of faith. A small amount of trust that the sun will also rise and you with it.

At six years old, a child may think that her heart is actually heart-shaped. And why not? The two people the child loves and trusts most in the world, the people she places her six year old faith in have named two semi-circles and a peak a heart.

It is sad to hear a six year old voice say, “I thought my heart was heart-shaped.” To know that her heart has become to her merely the lump of muscle that resides in her chest.

And for some children, this is the first small test of faith.

A child’s faith in a loved one’s words. What else could a heart be but that which we draw and color on scraps of paper? What does it mean if a heart is not actually two semi-circles and a peak? When one is six, the heart is for loving and believing and hoping. The heart, for a child, might be the principle organ of faith.

What is lost when a child’s heart becomes to them only a round, fist-sized organ?

It may take some years, but she may find the heart truly is something for wishes and dreams and faith. A force of strength that may guide according to the love it holds. What’s the old line…where your treasure is, there also your heart.

For some adults, this is both the test and the restoration of child-like faith. Belief which looks past the immediate and hopes for things unseen. A heart which trusts its treasure.

Of this I am sure. This I know.