One of the twins was missing for a while the other day. 
Not alarmingly so, but gone for long enough that I thought to go and
look for him.  Striding around the garage,
I saw him stretched tall on his tippy-toes at the corner of the back fence
where the neighbor’s mulberry bush reaches over.   

That bush drops berries into our yard, like
an old woman passing out candy to children, “Here you go
dear.  No, no, take more than that.  Do you have a pocket?  Here, let me put some in there.”

This is my
shoeless boy, feet stained purple, and I left him there in his revere without
letting him know that I knew where he was, because sometimes, I believe,
children need to feel that they are off on their own in the world, wild,
dangerous and free.

Later, while
cooking dinner, I glanced out the kitchen window to see him squatting in the
driveway, washing his little paws in a puddle. 
Splashing his hands back and forth quickly, he then stood and turned,

boy.  With the wide world his home, he
will never be lost.   

This post is linked with Five Minute Friday. 

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