The child in the photo is 6 months old. It is his first Christmas. The man is 1,056 months old. It is his 88th Christmas. The child and the man are related. The man thinks about the child at this time of year.
Pack Creek Ranch, San Juan County, Utah
Cold, clear, and calm – bright moon and stars.
(Written Dec. 15th, 2024)
WHAT CHILD IS THIS?
This child is 6 months old. The essence of innocence.
He cannot read or write or sing or walk or dance – not yet.
As you can see, he doesn’t have teeth or much hair.
If you asked him his name, he would not know – or even understand the question.
He cannot even string together words in a sentence. Not yet.
He is a possibility – a work in progress.
And he doesn’t know that it is Christmas time.
We can say that something in the world outside of him has made him laugh in delight.
We can say that his existence is part of the great evolutionary flow of being – passing through him and on – because he will have children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren and they, too, will join the human pilgrimage parade onward.
What of the man the child has become?
How many more Christmases will he witness?
He has come this far and is in good health.
If he lives to be a hundred, and the natural process of aging assigned to all living creatures affects him, he may move into a state of maturation, then decay and resemble the state of the child in the photo – no longer able to walk or sing or dance – no longer aware of who he is or what day it is – and only able to hang on the edge of his bed and laugh with delight at something outside of himself. Still merry.
A child once again.
So it goes.
And that’s OK.