Parting Shot: The promise of dawn

One hid in our bed in the middle of the night. At this hour, when everything is dark – at this moment, when the slightest step on the floor makes you jump – he pushed the door of our room and got closer to our bed.

His words were confused. His phrasing particularly slow. His voice was hoarse.

He had fallen from his hammock; he had been attacked by a crocodile.

I pondered on this crocodile. Was it a sea or freshwater one? Did it have bright eyes? I didn’t have time to ask him questions. His last words died away as he fell back to sleep.

He regained his confidence next to his dad’s muscular body and went back to his dreams. Watching his regular breathing, I told myself that he had come out of the jungle and found a hospitable plain. Looking at his languid body, I thought he had finally escaped danger.

This morning, I am watching him; he takes up all the space in our big bed. He is stretched out full length, on his stomach. He takes revenge for the sleep that a bad fairy has taken from him. His breathing is regular. The crocodile has disappeared; the hammock too.

The other stayed quietly in her bed. Now, she enters the living room, misted with sleep. Her hair is dishevelled; there’s vagueness in her eyes. She walks over and curls up against me. She’s looking for a hug. For a bit, she could easily doze off in my arms.

What magical powers do children have that make them look so beautiful when they wake up? Is it their taste of innocence and the enchanting world of their dreams that makes them reborn each morning prettier than the day before? Is there a particular chemical ingredient made of collagen and amino acid that gives them a natural facelift?

I love this beauty, I love this innocence. I would like to capture this wonder of a beginning of the early morning in a little bottle.

I would like to hold them against me for hours and savour the smell of their milky skin, the sweetness of their caresses. Keep them against me with the promise of dawn. Give them many more years of innocence. Let their tangled hair, sleepy eyes and baby scents float in the air.

I want to celebrate the magic of childhood, the one that gives a special taste and a sunny colour to all our everyday actions.

Do I take enough time to admire their beauty and the ease with which they move? Do I pay sufficient tribute to their contribution to the ambient wellbeing?

This morning, thanks to my children and a funny crocodile, I rediscovered the taste of innocence.