I love kids. Three greeted me late Friday afternoon. I had barely parked my car and there they were all wide-eyed and obviously had something of great concern and excitement to share with me based on their bouncing up and down and flapping their wee arms.
I opened my car door and their voices matched with the expression of their bodies:
“Miss Carolyn!!!!!” (repeat 15 times in various decibels of squeak)
“There’s a dragonfly!”
“That’s blue. Really, really blue…and pretty!”
“It’s got a hurt wing!”
“Can you fix it?”
“Please, please, please come over and see….”
My hand was held by mighty, tiny, and warm. I was guided quickly to where the dragonfly was resting.
In the well-being department, it wasn’t very perky, but I did ‘ooohhh and ahhhh’ about its beautiful sapphire blues and stained glass like wings.
Something deep, deep inside told me ‘Carolyn, please don’t talk about the life cycle of a dragonfly, or what they eat, etc.…’
Instead, with my hand to my heart, I gave a lot of ‘ouch noises’ and respect to our dragonfly friend.
The children were gathered in that sweet little squat way, about a nose or two close to the poor dragonfly, who was barely alive. And I started to daydream….
I thought, what if my ‘wing’ were hurt. What would I love?
Mmmmm — my bed. Maybe a quiet friend to be bring a snack or tea.
So, I suggested, “Let’s all get a leaf and some sticks and make it a tiny bed. We can carry it over to a quiet little bush.”
Less than a minute later the trio of sweet came back and we did just that. It was a simple reminder but a valuable one too:
Sometimes we can’t fix certain things but what we can do is let our friends know we care and that they aren’t alone. A hurt wing needs love too.