scribblechic

My son has his own soundtrack, a stream of sounds and commentary that accompany him as he moves through the world.  Sitting beside him in the waiting room of a doctor’s office, he began making sound effects to accompany the portable game that held his attention tightly.  I tuned out his familiar sounds and began reading a book.  As we waited, distracted and absorbed in our own activities, a new sound joined the space.  A young girl making a mechanical click deep in her throat settled into a seat nearby.

Next to me, my son was drawn out of his game curiously enamoured by the stranger’s sounds.  His eyebrows drawn together and his brown eyes focused, he watched the girl before asking me simply, Why?  The girl’s mother, kind and patient, explained her daughter was trying to communicate in a language of her own.  I let the woman’s words guide my son, waiting for his response.

He watched the girl in silence, listening closely.  Then, his eyes registered excitement.  Moving so that he stood between the girl and her mother, my son sought a conversation in Morse Code.  I would love to say they chatted, perhaps they did.  Later, we parted ways, my son said good-bye and the girl offered her response.  I held the moment close and gave thanks for the kindness of children and the simple language of friendship.

Tagged: Children, Friendship, Language