World, Please Be Kind

And he’s gone.  There he went, backpack on a tiny frame, swallowed up by a big, yellow bus that rolled to a stop, brakes screeching, on a cool August day bright with promise.

He’d been counting the days, fingers wriggling.  “One, two…” Brilliant blue eyes radiated joy.  Radiated hope.  Sparkled with…

“Adventure!”  That’s what he’d said the other night at the kitchen sink where Mama stood, trying to frame it in words.  “This is a big time for you,” she’d said.  “It’s such a big…”  Milestone. Turning point.  Life event. “Adventure!” he’d supplied cheerfully from behind her legs.

Yes, adventure.

Watching him with Big Brother, sticking tight, sticking close, his mama, she bled. His daddy bled, too.  Wordless, they shared a kiss in the house fallen silent as the bus drove away.  And there went their hearts with the two riding there.

They knew, those two did, how big was the world.  How hard and how cruel.  They knew, for they’d sent hearts before…

Into the great, wide world where life wasn’t fair and people were mean. Where work, it was hard, and succeeding was tough. Where folks, they would judge by your clothes or your name.  And there went their hearts…

World, please be gentle. That’s my baby you’ve got.  It’s my heart, knobby kneed, dimpled up and carefree.

World, please don’t mock. Don’t laugh or make fun.  It’s my heart, lisping words, tongue and teeth tangling up.

World, please be kind. For angels attend. God listens in, and Heaven descends.

For the least of these.