As parents, we think we know our children. We use this knowledge to protect them, shielding them from situations that we know they do not yet have the resources to cope with, and might cause them harm.
Sometimes, though, no matter how we try, such an event will lay itself down upon the path of our child, and there is nothing we can do to protect them. And much to our surprise, we catch a glimpse of the way our child will “be” as an adult.
After the exhausting day at the pool, and the nature hike, my four boys and I rode the elevator back up to our room. The shinny brass elevator doors were irresistible to my 3-year-old. He put his hand on the elevator door. It slid open, and carried his tiny little hand all the way into the pocket chamber, and he couldn’t pull it out. There was a scream, the elevator started beeping, and I dropped to my knees to pull his arm out.
I couldn’t reach his arm, because my 11-year-old son was already there. Working, pulling, trying to free his brother. We worked together for what seemed like hours. Time stopped. Suddenly, something shifted, and the 3-year old’s hand finally popped free. I picked him up and cradled his tiny red-swollen fingers to see if they were broken. It was then, that I looked at my 11-year-old’s face. He was white as a sheet, and his lips ashen.
Someone from the hotel came with ice, and the red swollen fingers (unbroken) were soon relieved of all the red, and traces of the accident disappeared. Afterwards, my son – my 11-year-old, couldn’t understand why his foot was trembling.
I just had a glimpse into the caring, sensitive, brave, strong, big-hearted man this boy truly is. Yes, it was quite a day.
P.S. I’m still puzzled by whatever it was that shifted and enabled his hand to come free. I can only say that is was almost like a 3rd set of hands was there to release the elevator door, just enough to free his hand.