Undoubtedly, the best moments in a week for me are those few hours I spend with my little nephew. I really enjoy going for a walk with him, his little hand in mine, talking about the widest range of subjects, all of them really interesting, such as the small incident a classmate of him had with their teacher in relation with some incontinence problems, or the latest animation film he feels like watching at the cinema, to which I immediately offer to bring him.
And, in these gratifying conversations, I value, among other things, the vision of the world that, through his eyes, I manage to achieve. Seeing the world from the point of view of a child, so different to ours, is amazing and clarifying. The lack of a long-term routine makes them experience any small event in their lives as something completely new and fascinating, in such a way that they seem to be always excited about the surrounding world. A very good and loved friend of mine used to remember their grandchildren fascinated by the pass of a cat along the street in front of his house, event that used to happen from time to time, always with the astonishment of the children.
In this respect, something that I admire is the huge capability of children to question everything that happens around them, not taking anything for granted, ability that we adults should learn to use. When I pick my nephew up from his house to bring him to the park, to the library (he loves books) or simply to go for a walk, I’m always waiting with expectation for his questions, fruit of an unlimited and voracious curiosity. Despite his naivety, all his questions are full of common sense, as it can be appreciate as follows. One rainy and stormy morning we came across with a friend of mine in the street, with which we had a short chat under the rain. After saying goodbye, I noticed that my nephew was very serious and thoughtful (unambiguous signs that precede each of his questions), and after a while, he asked me earnestly: “Little uncle, why has that sir told us good morning, if it’s raining?” According to him, with considerable coherence, the morning wasn’t as good as my optimistic friend had announced.
Finally, I’d like to share with you another nice anecdote that took place several years ago, when he was only three years old. It was a spring morning and we were strolling around the countryside, when we stumbled on a field of orange trees, all of them with the lower side of its trunks typically painted in white (the usual solution to prevent the ants of climbing the tree). He suddenly kept quiet and stared at the trees, and after a while he asked me with his little voice: “Little uncle, why are those trees wearing white socks?”