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| "Bella Principessa" red and white chalk |
I’ve never known a child who didn’t love to
rhyme. Toddlers have a special affinity
for poetry because they’re really listening to the sounds of words, having just
learned them. With the magical thinking
of childhood, it’s possible that the more beautiful and fascinating the words
are, the more powerful the child believes them to be. And the child would be right. Words can be magical.
I always sang or said children’s songs, nursery rhymes and
poetry to my children when they were babies. I sang when I was changing them
and dressing them. They listened with
great attention, little bodies quiet, eyes huge, and I thought they were
fascinated with poems and songs. Now
that my children are grown, and I know who they are as people, I realize that
my infant neurosurgeon and baby genetic research biologist were probably
thinking, “What’s she talking about?”
and “That makes no sense at all!”
It never occurred to me that not everyone sings to their
babies and toddlers, so when the grandchildren came along I naturally sang to
them, too. Possibly they are listening
with the same skeptical thoughts my children had, but the babies seem to like
it. I remember lying in a hammock with
my oldest grandchild one morning soon after her baby brother was born, and
singing each and every song of our repertoire.
She wanted to hear them all. I
also remember my grandmother singing to me the same songs.
A couple of months ago, my granddaughters and I were talking
discussing something I no longer remember.
What I do remember is this. “Are
you telling me the truth?” the older one, a stickler for details, asked me
incredulously. “Yep,” the younger one
said emphatically. “She’s a
thruther.” I love the exquisite
logic: someone tells lies = liar;
someone who tells the truth = truther. I
wish it were that simple.
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