Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Ukrainian Children
Can’t Do This Just Now
While on errands last Saturday I saw something marvelous:
little children in spontaneous play. They were not organized in teams nor had
they been set a goal or purpose by others. They were barefoot and in jeans and
tees, and were happily playing about in the mucky water of a roadside ditch.
Their only toy was an old bucket.
The two basic activities could be clearly clearly in the
few seconds it took to drive by.
The first activity was carried out by a little boy making
a little girl squeal in mock terror by holding a frog or a minnow to her face.
The second activity was the little girl dishing out retribution
by taking the bucket and sloshing the little boy with water from the ditch.
Merriment ensued among all present.
And, really, what better sport on a Saturday?
There was surely retribution at home by moms and dads: “Why
are you all wet!?” and “Get those muddy clothes into the washing machine and go
bathe! How many times have I told you...!?” But, gosh, what happy memories for
the kids, who someday will in their turn fuss at their own kids for the very
same offenses remedied only by detergent and bath soap.
Yes, there are many reasons not to play in muddy ditches:
bacteria, snakes, bacteria, snapping turtles, bacteria, pesticide runoff, bacteria,
broken glass, bacteria, and on and on. Children should not play in muddy
ditches.
Ukrainian children must sometimes hide in muddy
ditches, but it’s not the same thing at all.
Still, it’s somehow reassuring that in our increasingly
complicated, dangerous, and electronicalized world there are moments of the same
gloriously messy childhood play that our ancestors, all the way back to the
Garden, indulged in.
There are no leagues for unstructured play, no teams, no
uniforms, no scores, no officious adults with clipboards, no grades, no
fund-raisers, no meetings, no media drama, and no bullet points for resumes’. Those
will come later; for now, let’s have a little merry chaos.
Childhood is more joyful and more meaningful when not
filtered through little Orwellian telescreens. Minnows and mud and fireflies
and silly songs around a campfire at night are much better.
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