What does the Future Hold


This afternoon I rode the Crosstown Bus. I sat in the front and a little boy who looked to be four years old stood near me. He was a healthy, delightful child in a red and white baseball cap and black-rimmed sunglasses.

He was talking to himself – asking himself questions and then answering each question. This was in a conversational tone but very serious. Then he sang a little song. Then the questions and answers started again – and then another little song.

I said to him, “how old are you”? He answered, “four”. I looked up, smiled, and explained to the older lady with short, blonde hair, apparently his caretaker, what he was doing. She didn't appear interested but said, “yeah, he does that”.

I said to him, “may I see your beautiful eyes”? He lowered his sunglasses. “My name is Dennis”, he said. I teared up as I considered what an unusual and beautiful child he is – just four years old – sturdy – not fat, not thin – stolid, grounded – not moving on the moving bus – deep in serious conversation – with himself – answering his own questions with an intelligence and insightfulness passing over his face. His little songs were tuneful but not easily heard.

This wonderful child – deep brown satin skin and dark lustrous eyes – his cute little nose wide and pert with sweet full lips – what does the future hold for such a child?--

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