Matilda turns five today. As much as we would like time to stand still, it changes babies into kindergarteners. In honour of her, I share these thoughts of her as a one year-old.
Months fly off the calendar. I zoom from obligation to appointment. In my zooming I often miss the delightful, the precious. Today I fell into the trance of reading email, checking sites and almost missed darling Matilda, my one year old granddaughter’s song.
She sat on the floor a few steps away, singing to her Strawberry Shortcake doll, clapping on the beats. “Soo-soo?” she asks her doll then plugs the soother between plastic lips. “Rocky baby …in chee-chop . . .” she sings, baby cradled in her chubby arms.
I stop reading what will be forgotten next week and concentrate on her. “My churn,” she tells her 4 year-old brother. A pile of tiny dinosaurs fall to the floor. They dive into them, add more animals and soon various animal noises turn the playroom into a zoo.
I’m captivated by Matilda’s language skills. English is a difficult language, the most difficult experts say. Yet, here she is, a baby still, with many new words every day. Some I don’t recognize on first hearing but then I get it – “la la la gee oh,” turns out to be her version of “B-I-N-G-O.”
What a marvel the human brain is, more intricate than any computer. It’s “Made by God” stamp is so evident it astounds me that not everyone can see it.
You know me inside and out, you know every bone in my body; You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit, how I was sculpted from nothing into something. Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth; all the stages of my life were spread out before you (Psalm 139)