The brave little boy

Nicholas turned six last Friday. His favorite things are his brother, mommy, daddy, Spider-Man, Bionicles and Ben Ten toys. He loves babies but he hasn’t had the opportunity just yet to meet his new cousin, Casey, but he will soon. He also looks forward to visits from his aunt who lives near Mickey, Donald and Buzz Lightyear. She brings around this guy who he thinks is totally cool. They play board games together, and Nicholas swears they’re the same because this guy also likes Naruto, Godzilla, and Yu Gi Oh. They have a blast together.



This is my little nephew’s world. It is simple and clear. He looks forwards to playing with friends at school. He loves hot dogs and laughing. He is allergic to nuts and hates them. He receives postcards from the escaped Gingerbread Man who is traveling the world. (Funny how sometimes they receive multiple postcards from various locations! Funny how the Gingerbread Man has different penmanship each time!)

As I was there to celebrate his sixth birthday, I was very aware of the changes that happen when a child gets older. I remember when I was six and I know he will too. He is entering that age where memories are being made and his life is being formed. Whether it is the way he folds his clothes, or the way he puts his socks on, how he perceives gender roles, how he views life, I know that he’s hit that age where things will begin to stick on a more concrete level. This scares the hell out of me.

I remember moments in my life when tragedy was introduced. I’m sure most of us remember a moment when things didn’t feel right any longer. Whether by willing culprits or circumstances, life brings suffering no matter what. I look at Nicholas and shudder at the fear of any ill will upon him. He brings a smile to my face. The way he looks at things in life, the humor he has, and most of all his sensitive heart towards everyone and everything. (Even towards a balloon. As it drifted out of the grasp of his hand, he looked up into the dark sky and whispered, “But why do you have to go?”)

Last December, we shared a room during our Legoland visit. He curled up in his Spider Man sleeping bag and asked for a bed time story. I made something up about a brave little boy who had to conquer a mountain but was filled with fear. Each time, the little boy could call out to Jesus and ask for help. Each time, Jesus would help in some way, but it was the little boy who had to believe that he could climb that mountain. As I went on, I sensed Nicholas’ breathing was getting heavier. He was falling asleep. I ended the story quickly and went back to my bed.

“Auntie Mich?” he said.

“Yes, Nicholas.” I answered.

“I want to be like that little boy. I want to be the best kid in the whole world.” He fell asleep.

Nicholas, you are.