Breathing New Life

I see Betty almost every day. She peeks through her closed curtains and looks towards my house. I wave. Sometimes she waves back and sometimes she doesn't. I've lived in my house for a year, and I've never seen her outside. Her husband says she has dementia.

Yesterday my son and his friend were in the front yard building dirt ramps for their matchbox cars. I was sitting on the porch when I heard Betty. "Hello Eleanor!" I had never spoken to her before, so I was surprised that she knew my name. "I hope you don't mind me being over here." She said as she walked to my porch. "I always try to watch to see when your son is out playing. It just warms my heart to see little boys play in the dirt. Your son is such a precious gift."

I thanked her for her kind words. "You know I once had two little boys of my own." She said. "Watching them play in the dirt was so special."

Later that evening, Bonnie made her nightly visit to our fence. She is a widow, and her five grown children have all moved away. "What's new?" She said. I told her about my visit with Betty. "She came out of the house??" She remarked. "You know about her boys, right? One of her sons has a mental disability and has a hard time. The other one was left by his wife and committed suicide about ten years ago. After he died, Betty just stopped coming out of her house. I guess that sweet boy of yours was enough to get her back out."

In his short life thus far, my son has brought joy to those who suffer simply by smiling his sweet smile, sharing his sensitive spirit, and reminding us of the gift of childhood innocence. Sometimes I feel sorry for myself because I only have one child and not a whole bunch of children as I had planned. But Betty reminded me that my one child is a priceless gift for which I am forever grateful.