Summer’s sentimental air lends itself to reflection. The sun’s warmth is a sweet compliment to memory building days of swimming in pools, bike rides,ice cream cones, and never ending play. Summer gives way to school, and is nearly over for Goldi. So I’ve looked into a mirror of days past, and wandered into the “what will be”.
In the sparkling waters of a swimming pool, Goldi held her breath and let the wavy water blanket her. She kicked and floated and blew bubbles.
“I saw the bottom, it’s blue!” she said popping up to the top.
Hesitation no longer crippled her. The ripples of her splash stretched as far as the pool’s width and the waves took a long while to calm.
She’s older now and those her age have aged more. They know that pink and orange clash. They are playing with their rip sticks and not their princesses. Will she be as free to make her own splash? How will she deal with the poison of some bully or one who turns up their nose at her quirkiness?
“Mom! Watch me again. I am going to be underwater the whole way!” Goldi announces.
I watch with anticipation. Goldi swims the whole length of the pool underwater.
There is a new trail that winds itself through the quiet of the woods. A hush allows us to hear the sizzle of the tires on wisps of dirt. It allows for Goldi to stretch out her hand and brush the low branches of leaves as she breezes by.
“Goldi lead the way this time!” her dad invites.
Goldi takes first place. She looks from right to left at the first cross street. She waits and double looks.
“All clear! Let’s go!” She calls out.
Sometimes, her peers instruct like a momma. They stoop down and use their little kid voice:
“It’s your turn. You have to do it like this. Be careful. ”
Will she know to pause and think on her own before she acts?
Goldi pedals onward and comes to the next crosswalk.
“Go ahead!” her father says.
“Not yet Dad,” she says back.
A car storms through unexpectedly.
Laziness is at its best while licking ice cream cone on the front porch. In the shade and in everyday view of summer, we lick, question, talk, and listen to the breeze. We wait for the hummingbird to surprise us. Sometimes he comes and sometimes he is elsewhere. We are content no matter.
“Mom, this time I want a mint chocolate chip ice cream cone”. Goldi requests.
My scooper shakes with excitement.
“You mean you don’t want vanilla?” I confirm.
“Nope! I want mint chocolate chip please.” She insists.
The humming bird comes right to the kitchen window and nods.
I become more than content. I am elated.
Summer eating has turned feasting. New on Goldi’s menu is hamburgers, cheeseburgers, roast beef, grilled cheese, smoothies, spaghetti with sauce, and mint chocolate chip ice cream.
Will she know the pleasures of the new? Will she take the risk of trying even though uncertain? So much new ahead as adolescence rounds the corner and Goldi stays in the wing of little girl.
“I’ll help cook dinner.” Goldi announces wearing her pink apron.
“We need to peel some carrots and crack some eggs.” I tell her.
Goldi glides the peeler with ease and allows the slippery ooze to tickle her fingers. New has never felt so wonderful for her.
When the neighborhood wakes up, Goldi dashes off to knock on doors.
She approaches even the big tall, booming voice fathers and asks: “Is she home? Can she play?”
Even in the disappointment of decline, she realizes there is a second chance. There is a hope stemmed from forever play days passed.
But my poison is worry. Worry is a like a sword, piercing my hope with future rejection from these same playable neighbors and others sure to meet her autism. Will she initiate friendship? Will she find those that genuinely cherish her friendship? Will their discipline, poise, and maturity drift them far apart from Goldi’s childlike manner, naivety, and innocence?
“Mom, they can ‘t play right now. Maribelle has karate and Jane and Suzie are in the middle of a checkers game. ” Goldi says softly.
Right now passes quickly and there are three knocking at the door.
Right now they are eager to play. Even if it is with a Barbie Glamour pool filled with water and complete with miniature water slide. So I shelf the worry and relish in the right now.
Summer reflection has turned to a realized hope. While the “what will be” days will be tainted with the quirky, jumpy, hand flapping, immaturity of Goldi’s autism, there is a newness that will one day overshadow it and the only thing seen will be the glory of God.
Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? Isaiah 43:19