It rained in Los Angeles last night. Here we call that a small miracle. We woke up to one of the most beautiful mornings in a long time. Clear air, blue sky, birds chirping. But you know what trumps beauty? Getting to school on time.
The usual morning chaos ensued: gulp down breakfast, cram spelling words, make bed, feed the dog, pack the lunch. To be clear, it’s chaos for me, the mom. The daughter, on the other hand, wandered outside to take in the morning.
As I rushed out the door to scoop her into the car, she stopped me in my tracks. Sprawled out on our driveway was a trail of earth worms basking in the warm sun.
Maggie: “Mama, it’s an emergency!”
Me: “Sweetie, we have to get to school.”
Maggie (with grave intensity and a bit of finality): “If I leave them here they will die, and I will not let that happen.”
Then without my assent, she bent down and proceeded to gather up the grey, squirmy creatures. She spoke to each worm as she delicately lifted it up from the concrete and into her small hands. “It’s going to be ok, buddy, I’ve got you.”
Having forgotten the time and school for that matter, I watched Maggie carry the wriggling handful of worms to a mound of wet dirt, where they gratefully burrowed down, missing the satisfied smile on her face.
It took maybe six minutes to save the trail of worms—six little minutes out of our chaotic morning. They say kids have no concept of time. Maybe kids just don’t think being on-time is nearly as important as saving the life of an earth worm.
I’m certain that kids have it right.