A little six-year-old friend of mine loves colouring, I’m quite partial to it myself. Today we industriously worked on a couple of pages of Easter illustrations, big baskets of Easter eggs with oversized ribbons. We shared the pencils and despite re-assurance from me, miss six was determined to finish her page first. As well as keeping an eye on where I was up to with my colouring progress she developed a pensive and thoughtful approach to our task. Often when we concentrate on drawing, painting or like today, colouring, interesting conversations follow…today was no exception and the discussion that evolved had me searching for the right words and concepts.
‘Why do we have Easter?’ ‘Why did Jesus die on the cross?’ ‘Who put him there?’ ‘Well, where is he now? What does he do anyway?’ ‘How could he die and then be alive as well?’ ‘Are you going to church on Friday? I’m not.’ ‘Where is Jesus now?’ ‘How come he gets to live forever and we all die?’ ‘Well you know in the church, is he really there, you know that big picture on the wall, no, the statue, is that really him?’ ‘Why is he reborn?’ ‘What, every Easter Sunday? Every year?’ ‘I’m finished my page first, I win…!’ You will note that I’ve not included my answers to these wonderful and innocent questions, mostly because my answers included a few too many ‘well you see I think it’s sort of like this…’ and ‘Um, not too sure about that but…’ During this lively questioning session my partner sat nearby in the study listening with intrigue and absolute relief that I was the one doing the colouring session with our dear little friend. Anyway, the colouring came to a thankful end and the lively discussion moved on to other matters such as what day we might actually have an Easter hunt…much easier to navigate…! I love the honesty that kids project and the way they only ask what they want to know at any given time. It’s the adults of the world who cause the confusion, I’m sure of that!
A couple of weeks ago my friend’s Mum died at age ninety-nine. Now, no-one can deny that living for ninety-nine years wasn’t a mighty effort. Of course, for the family there was sadness but it was also a time for remembering and reminiscing.
My late mother comes to mind when the topic of friendship is discussed. She was one to value friends and by doing so was a very good friend to many. Mum was the eldest of nine children of whom only seven survived. The first-born in her family, she experienced the loss of two little brothers and was much like an only child until her sister was born when she was eleven, followed quickly by her other five siblings. The family was a close family but my mother was one to two decades older than them. So it stands to reason that she learnt early in life to make and value friendships outside her family. Her need for appropriate peer relational interaction could not always be met within the family, although she loved her family dearly.
Heather Whitford Roche 