Innocence For A Time

Copyrighted@RobMason2011

December 22, 2011

Every now and again, and when not feeling traumatized by our own trivial matters, we are gifted the opportunity to bare witness to such little and seemingly meaningless events that create circumstances that bind us all together in ways we could not know and on most days, could not care about.

Last night, and amid the bustle of another silly season, I sat for a coffee after removing myself from the robotic programming of Commercial Christmas. It was then that I felt one of those rare and profound few moments that jolted me as if I had just been hit over the head with a sledge hammer. As is my habit, I had a pen and notepad handy and penned my immediate thoughts and perceptions when a young mother and her small son came in from out of the cold. It was but less than fifteen minutes out of my day, week, month and year. Yet it will be one of the few things I take with me from from this year almost passed. Perhaps it was my negative spirit of the day. Perhaps my perception was incorrect. Perhaps I read into it more than I should have. And perhaps that little boy just reminded me of another little boy I remember from long ago. Regardless, I was there and I noticed.

I surmised the young mother to be in her early twenties at the most. The little boy was around seven or eight years old. Without speaking, she pointed to an unoccupied table and the little boy took a seat. To coin a phrase used in generations gone by, he was as "Cute As A Button". He had short dark hair and the biggest eyes I had ever seen. He was dressed in newer, brand name clothes but ironically, had no mittens or hat on such a blistering, cold night. I am not certain as to why that fact immediately caught my attention. But it did. His mother arrived at the table with a coffee for herself and a chocolate milk and donut for her son. She opened the chocolate milk, slipped a straw into it and placed it in front of the boy along with the donut covered in sprinkles of some sort. As he began to enjoy his snack, the mother took off her coat and sat down to drink her coffee. Again, no words were spoken. The mother took an electronic device out of her pocket, put on some tiny ear pieces, connected them to the device I presumed was a cell phone, and instantly became lost in her electronic world.

The little boy was enjoying his chocolate milk and donut while taking in his surroundings. He caught the attention of two elderly women at the next table who immediately took a shining to him as they began to engage him in some conversation. The one lady smiled at him and asked if he was excited about Christmas. He looked at his mother and then back to the lady. Nodding his head, he smiled an those big round eyes got bigger and rounder. She then asked if he and his mother were out Christmas shopping. Again there was a nod and another smile. He bit into his donut and some sprinkles stuck to the side of his mouth as he tried to capture them with his tongue. It was a "Kodak Moment", if ever there was one. The other Lady then enquired if he was excited about Santa Clause coming soon. Another nod and another smile. She then asked him what he wanted for Christmas. The little boy looked at his mother, then turned back to the lady and shrugged his shoulders. I don't think it mattered what the boy said or if he even said anything at all. These two elderly ladies were just delighted to interact with this cute little boy. He continued to drink his milk and eat his donut while taking in what was going on around the coffee shop. Occasionally, he would look back towards the ladies and return their smiles.

I too was taken with the young boy but at that moment, I was not sure why. I just kept scribbling some thoughts on my paper, took in the surroundings, watched this little boy, his mother and the two ladies. And I could not ignore the fact that this mother spoke no words to her son and seemed oblivious to the fact that he was even interacting with the two elderly ladies at the adjacent table. Suddenly, I had clarity. This little boy was the spitting image of my son when he was eight years old. He had the same eyes, the same smile and mannerisms. And like this little boy, he had a penchant for attracting attention and for being somewhat of a social butterfly. Through circumstances of life, I had not seen my son for over seven years and was reminded of that fact when seeing this little boy.

I found myself wondering what would happen to this young boy as I had often wondered about my own son. As I knew nothing about this boy, his mother and the circumstances of their lives, I was left with only my perceptions and instincts. And both told me that they had a tough road ahead of them. I was flooded with a continuous wave of memories and emotions of a previous life lived before dying in that life. As with all things, it did eventually pass. There were at least thirty or more stories in that coffee shop that night during my stay but none as compelling as the one I was briefly engrossed in. What possessed me to document these fifteen or so minutes of my night, I cannot say. But like a grocery store receipt, I felt the need to save it.

As it is with fate and destiny, life will always be indiscriminate for all. I finished my coffee, put away my pen and notepad, put on my coat and headed out the door. I turned my collar up, turning my back to the brisk, northerly winds and began my trek home. I cannot say how I felt in the moment. I was not happy nor did I present with sadness. But I was certainly not a man of indifference. And I found that to be at the very least, a comforting thought.