The child in us

JJWP269We sometimes remember the child in us – fun, playful, uncaring, lively, unmindful, spirited. It was a world of smiles and laughter, of cries and shrieks, of bratful ‘I want’ and ‘I don’t want’. It was a most basic routine of hunger, thirst, play and sleep. It was a time of ABCs, 1-2-3s, zoos, Lego blocks, Japanese robots, and a TV with a sliding wooden front cover. My dad’s radio had a dial knob for which to find a station to tune in, and once “tuned in” it had the most awful hiss and crackle, you would hear more of the noise than the music. Dialing the phone then would break your pointer finger. Oh, it was the era of tight-fitting shirts with six-inch collars, bell-bottom pants that covered half-foot high elevator shoes. In such outfit, I wondered how they could dance to “The Hustle” or “Le Freak”. But there we were, warm and comfy in our mother’s arms as the “Let’s Make Love Not War’ movement passed by. Suckling those tiny thumbs, our little eyelids fluttered to fairyland as mom sang here sweetest lullaby. Childhood was being oblivious, selfish and indifferent. But then that is not the natural progression of life. We can’t stay in the dooldrums of innocence, or remain in the perpetual pleasure of youth. Eventually we open our eyes to the reality of what is around us, that what happens in the world matters, and that whatever happened to us in that chapter of childhood, one way or another, did matter to the world. (Photo location: Guimaras Island)

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