A Lesson in Life and Death

At the age of 26, it's difficult to wrap my mind around the beautiful mysteries of life and death.

At the age of 3 1/2, i'm sure the difficulty is even more pronounced.

For instance, Honeysuckle Run is proud to announce that we have our very first baby chick! That's right - bred and born here in our own backyard. A cute little peep of a chick... or so i've heard, as mother hen (a Bantam Porcelain Bearded Belgian D'Uccle) is mighty protective and shields the creature from view. I can hardly blame her, though - aren't all we first-time moms cautious to the point of paranoia? Anyway, my point is that Thomas knows that a mom and dad chicken got married and with lots of tender care, a baby chicken was born forth from their mutual 'love.' Simple yet thurough, eh? True, no? He was invigorated by the bigness of the whole idea.

Less than 24 hours later, his boyish heart was smashed to bits upon discovering that his pet goldfish - for whom he alone took responsibility - had given up the ghost. Thomas blamed himself, naturally, saying that he had given it too much food. (I think this is because i overstressed the importance of moderation when it came to those fish flakes, mostly to make sure i - i mean, he - didnt have to clean the bowl every other day.) He wept bitterly, and grieved over the loss of his pet. But i think he's okay now, since he seems to grasps the fact that spiders and flies and fish and racoons all have rather shortish lives that end after their purpose is completed.

A lesson on life and another on death - all in 24 hours.

Rethinking things, maybe at 3 1/2 it's not so hard to get it after all. Perhaps the innocence and simplicity of childhood makes those two mysteries more palatable, more tangible, more real. At least it seems to when i compare my own 'adult' understanding to that of my preschool son.