Deep in the forest, wild things roam.
The wind blew and the sun was warm as winter came to an end in Pinamar, on the coast of Argentina. My three children, each carrying a stick, walked into the forest and as they did, the sand dunes and pine trees transformed into a land of the wild.
That’s when our life began.
We slowed down and we were there, living at the pace of time, of our time. The birds swarmed past, the sun glared off the sand like a field of snow, and we walked, our minds slowing and the worries of the week evaporating and our heads filling with adventure, the sand dunes turning into sand mountains and the brambles into a grey forest filled with snakes. We walked through with care, and each took their own course, reporting the surprises they found. [continue reading…]
“Hey, we’ll chat tonight.”
The phone rang and it was a young girl on the other end. She asked to speak with my eight-year-old daughter, who was in bed. It was 10:20 p.m. on a school night.
That’s late but not that late in Buenos Aires where bars, cafes and restaurants can bustle until after midnight even on weeknights.
I hesitated. I’d not heard the girl’s voice before. She wasn’t a schoolmate I knew, who I could call by name and ask how things were going, how her parents were doing.
This was a new voice, a new friend. What on earth do I say? And at 10:20 p.m.? Do I mortify my daughter by saying she’s in bed? Do I say, “It’s past her bedtime young lady and you should be in bed too?” Or do I play it hip and say, “Yeah, we’ve just got in from the movies and, well, let me see if she’s available.” [continue reading…]
“I didn’t do it. It was my soul!”
The subject of the soul came up the other day with our three kids. They wanted to know.
My wife took over. “It’s like a little person inside you,” she said, going on to explain, briefly, the different beliefs on afterlife.
I was impressed.
My son was too, even overjoyed.
“A little man!” the six-year-old exclaimed. “I have a little man inside me.”
This was perfect for him. For over the next days when he was caught turning on the TV without permission or messing up his room or leaving his clothes on the floor, well, he had the perfect alibi. “Don’t ask me,” he said, smiling and blissful. “It was my soul. You know, the little man.” [continue reading…]
