Getting It

Friday morning, as Elijah and I were eating our breakfast cereal, Elijah proudly showed me his Christmas bag that he made at school the day before. He told me that all the other kids decorated their bags “with presents or gingerbread men,” and he was the only one that “did baby Jesus.” I love it, and I especially like the skyscraper city behind the stable, the the three wise men hiding behind the levitating Christ child. But it does make me proud and think that some of it all is getting through.

Later that day, I took off a little early to hurry home so I could take Elijah to a friend’s birthday party. We were to go to Athens to ice skate (the apparently setup a temporary ice rink in the bottom floor of the Classic Center), and then over to Haden’s house for pizza and a sleepover party. Elijah had not been ice skating before, or any skating before for that matter. But I know he’s a fearless kid, and I had confidence he would do well. He did not disappoint. Since Haden’s dad Kevin had already purchased the kids tickets, I had to go back upstairs to get mine while the kids got their skates on and got out on the ice. So once I stepped out on the ice, Elijah was already in the middle of the rink skating around. Of course, he was constantly falling down, but he was also constantly getting up. He had some pretty hard falls, and at one point I asked him if he wanted “to go in?” His response was typical Iron Squeeze, “No,” he said in anguish, “I’m okay.”

I think when I was a kid, I was the one clinging to the edge all the way around the rink, terrified to fall down. I remember when I was a teen, I was about to fall while skating, and I clung to some poor little kid to keep from falling. I remember plainly that in my head I was telling myself, “let the kid go,” but I couldn’t make myself release him until I was stable. Pretty pathetic. Yet I look at Elijah and realize how determined he is to master something, whether it be bike riding, swimming, soccer, math, His Awana Bible verses, or ice skating. In fact, he was more upset that he wasn’t able to “ice skate” (and master the skill), than he was about his bumps and bruises. He just would’t be deterred. Proud of that boy. And with a little more practice, he’ll get it.

(Funny caveat, the next day as he was sleeping in the van, he would awaken every now and then, with a whimper about his hurting leg, then fall right back to sleep).