(1 min read)
I was trying to explain a calendar to my 3-year old who keeps asking when her momma and sissy are coming home from Japan.
I drew out rows of smiley faces – seven across and four down.
“See,” I pointed with my finger. “We count 1-2-3-4-5-6-7… and then we start over again at the beginning of the next week and go 1-2-3-4-5-6-7… and then…”
She looked up at me dumbfounded. She wasn’t getting it.
Okay, maybe my explanation wasn’t elementary enough but her lack of getting it got my mind going and it wasn’t long before I stopped trying to teach her. Not out of frustration, but out of admiration.
How wonderful to believe that there are no weeks in the world, no starting over, no counting down the days. There is only today and then after that… hooray! It’s today again!
The todays are endless and they run in a single line off the page, out into the hallway, down the stairs, out the door, and right off the edge of the horizon.
There are so many todays you get to do everything you want, play with every toy you own, make every kind of face you can think of.
So, I had her color in the smiley face for today and then I put the paper away.
There is plenty of time for her to learn how to multiply by sevens like the rest of us, to ponder the earth’s rotation and its monotonous dance with Sun. Yes, there will be Science up ahead. We’ll do Science and Math and Astronomy and Philosophy.
But not today. Today is for everything else. Today is special.