They’re Coming For Our Kids Next
My son is 9 months old and I have to say that it’s a really precious age. They really start to express themselves, their likes and dislikes and one of the things that my son likes — no, loves — is a walk. I’m not joking when I say I can put my son in a stroller for three hours and he won’t make a peep. He just holds the handle bar and smiles.
We were in DC this past weekend and the weather was absolute autumn perfection. So I decided I couldn’t miss the opportunity to take him around for some errands. Instead of putting him in the stroller, I put him in a carrier. He was attached to my chest facing outward and I’m not kidding when I say that I could feel his happy energy radiating off of me — radiating outward to every person who was walking around the city.
I’m also not kidding when I say that every person we walked by, no matter who they were, no matter what walk of life they were from, or what sort of mood they were in, couldn’t help themselves. Instantly a smile would cut across their face and they got this look, you know what look I’m talking about — it’s almost a dreamy one — the look we give when we come across unadulterated happiness.
There was this younger black woman who was walking past us and said “he looks like he is having the best time ever,” to which I responded “my baby loves a walk.”
A few paces later and I was standing outside of a Starbucks. I noticed this older white couple who were clearly fighting their every impulse to say something as well. Finally, the gentleman, — on the brink of an implosion — goes “I just have to say, that that is the cutest baby that I have ever seen” — to which his wife chimes in, “and we have grandchildren that are not going to be happy to know he said that.”
Their various smiles and reactions set against the backdrop of the most politically charged city in the country made me realize something. Despite our many differences, despite the ever-encroaching feeling that we have nothing left to unite every citizen around — not a president, not a policy, not even a flag anymore — there is still hope. There’s still hope because there are
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