Today I am Writing: On the Love of Babes

Yesterday I arrived at the home of my friend (recently rendered unable to drive by a bit of surgery) in order to teach her little ones their weekly round of piano.

I was met at the door by a procession. First came the next to youngest, carrying a plate covered in brownie, high and proud. She was followed by her sister older, carrying me a mug of tea.

("You always give me tea at your house," she says; "why wouldn't I give you some when you come to mine?")

The love on their faces nearly levels me.

Later the littlest one brings me a picture of an eagle, colored energetically. She shows me the talons, the only spot of red. "See those?" she says; "that's where the eagle is angry."  Maybe it's because we've been dealing in feelings-turned-piano sounds of late, but, "it's for you," she says.

I teach them then, one by one, while the others hover, watching, lounging over the back of the couch with smiles and relaxation wide. Lastly I teach the boy, the oldest one of these little ones, getting older by the moment.

"Play the Maple Leaf Rag, can you?" he says. I do, and he watches with those eyes that take everything in, and then we play his song in 5/4 and I say "man, you have got to make a commitment, are you doing this piano thing or not? and "yes!" he says, immediate. And then I get my coat and I chat with my friend and I pack up my things and the children run all around, and then there is the tea-drinking one, bringing me a picture she has drawn for me, a piano with music on it, a complexly layered heart, and many words of I-value-you care.

And then I'm out the door and heading to my car, and there is the door opening again and the boy sticking his head out, just to say "Bye Lauren!" one more time. And I wave and I say "have a good week!" and "you too!" he says, and it is easy and far more life-giving than I have the capacity to understand why.

I drive away, my heart warmed up, the love of babes a crucial thing.