sLiDe

A little child was in the playground today. With a lot of effort, his mother managed to coax him to climb to the top of the slide. He crouched there in the hidey-hole, terrified, trying to be brave by holding his tears in.

Meanwhile, mummy was kneeling at the end of the slide, explaining that all he had to do was sit down and slide. I could almost see the question marks that lighted up in his little head. Unable to understand why mummy seems so far away. Unable to grasp the idea of sliding down a slide. Scared of this bright yellow thing, snaking its way down, separating him from mummy.

I must salute the mother’s patience. She explained again and again to the little boy how a slide worked, and that sliding down a slide is a very fun thing to do. She cajoled, she tempted, she bribed, she pleaded.

For a good while. Before the boy inched his way out, sat on the top of the slide, and contemplated whether to believe mummy or his gut instinct. The need for love triumphed and he let go of his hands and slid right into mummy’s embrace.

Sometimes you just have to let go and trust that life will keep you safe.