To Be A Child Again

13 Sep

Childhood is scrumptiously sweet, filled with delicious naivety and divine happiness. The eyes of a child are not warped by the corruption and pessimism of our age. They hold the power to see the extraordinary in the mundane, with discoveries in their backyard to rival Columbus’, and new language that excitedly begins to tickle the tips of their tongues making them as linguistically powerful as Shakespeare.

A child doesn’t need proof to believe in something, they have sincere faith in the world and in love. It is our responsibility to make sure that every child has the chance to see the world at its best, because it may prevent them from becoming one of those adults that can only see the worst.

I suppose I miss being a child because it’s a time when I saw everything for what it truly was. There was no prejudice ingrained in my brain, and no distortions or shadows over reality. Everything appeared bright in its natural colours, and nature was enough to astound.

If something was wrong, I would not shy away from my feelings but sit there and cry. The courage of children to speak the truth surpasses that of adults, and we should be ashamed. A child will say “I’m sorry”, “Thank you” and “I love you” without a glimmer of cynicism or a moments thought. Gentle hugs and affectionate kisses say a thousand things more than lengthy speeches made by men and women in suits and ties and shiny black shoes.

So, if I were to be a child again, I would explore the jungle in my garden, hide in a secret den under my bed, be an astronaut amongst the stars that sparkle outside my window and I would give a thousand hugs and kisses a day. But then again, what’s stopping me from doing that now?

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