Perspectives

The other day, I was waiting by the pool while S was in her swimming lesson. There was a little boy of Chinese heritage, who was probably about 2 years old. He was supposed to be in a swim lesson also but something held him back. Against his will, his mother forced him to join in the class. He clung to the instructor for dear life, bawling, with terror in his eyes. The instructor was gentle, holding him with care, slowly cajoling him to get in the water.

I could not help but think of another time, another place - a place a lot more sterile, filled with so much real pain and fear. In August 2008, my only nephew was diagnosed with a rare form of brain tumor (by the grace of Allah, he's still in remission). He was yanked from a home he knew and loved and thrust into an endless world of pricks, medicine and not knowing when the next lab coat will walk in with the next set of tests. He was only 21 months old at the time. He had the same shock of curly hair as the little Chinese boy, and the look of terror on his face each time was quite comparable to what I saw at the pool.

It made me wonder about our basest feelings such as fear. Does it really matter what situation you are in? In my mind, these two situations could not be farther apart, and yet the parallel was uncanny. It filled my heart with a despondence about all these little boys and girls, crying in fear of something that they are so terribly afraid of - either because of a real anticipation of pain or a perceived sense of danger. Whatever it may be, I felt sad that they could not express themselves better nor that those in a place to understand better could appreciate how lucky they were that their son was crying only because he did not want to get into the pool.

In a strange way, I also felt grateful that I have never seen that look of fear in my daughter's eyes in her 5 years with me. I hope and pray that someday she comes to understand the value of this blessing.