One of the things that I do consciously try to do is to help G/Son to appreciate nature. We went to a nearby nature center this weekend and it was nice: a little place in the woods with shells and animal bones and rocks and plants. Outside was a huge banner of the Earth and G/Son surprised me by pointing to it across the meadow and saying, "Look, Nonna! It's the Earth!"
But the most magical thing of all happened when we were leaving, just at dusk when the center closed and we started up the winding walk through the woods to our car. I could hear the rustling in the forest next to the road and stopped to look carefully, reaching for G/Son's hand in case what I heard was a buck about to come angrily out of the woods. But it wasn't. It was a lovely, graceful doe, white-tailed and grave, who came to the edge of her wood to stare at us across the three or four feet of road. I know: we're supposed to consider them pests and tick-carriers and blah blah blah. I love them. I can go years and not see one, but the times in my life when I've really needed reassurance about something important, they show up.
I became completely still and whispered, "Look, G/Son. A deer." We'd just seen pictures of deer inside the nature center and, when he turned, I think that's kind of what he was expecting to see, but he saw her, almost one with the dusk and the forest full of doe-colored leaves. He became completely still, too, expect for his eyes, which grew as wide as saucers. And then he whispered something to the deer that he's heard me whisper to squirrels and birds and butterflies: "I would never hurt you." And it had the same effect upon her that it often has on animals. She remained where she stood and simply watched us.
After a few minutes, we began to walk back up the path, still holding mittened hands and not speaking. She moved across the road, through the meadow on our side, and into the woods that border the meadow. When we got to our car, G/Son said to me, "That was Bambi. For real."
And this morning, he helped Son rake leaves.
8 comments:
That was some gift you gave him, Hecate. He now understands that, in some unconventional sense, he can find ways to communicate with the 4-leggeds.
Wow, what a special story. Brought tears to my eyes.
You are a good woman, teaching him about nature. It is a gift he will always thank you for.
My mom did that for us, and I am grateful beyond expression.
That was a GREAT story. Thank you.
Nice to have a way to introduce the G/Son to nature that doesn't involve killing it.
Thank you. What a beautiful story. It makes me think back to one of the first books read to me when I was a child: Lightfoot the Deer, by Thornton W. Burgess (1921).
Awwwwwwwwwwwwww... sorry, I think there's something in my eye *sniff*...
Lovely, lovely, lovely. Wonderful story and picture.
I am blessed with seeing deer every day where I live. I know that I should not welcome them into my yard or my workplace because of lyme disease but I don't care. They ravage my gardens and I don't care. I have had the wonderful experience of seeing a baby deer nurse in full daylight. They are beautiful and we are on the same eye contact/wave length as you and grandson - I would never hurt you. We speak to each other all the time,we pass within 5 feet of each other. It is just as the bird my cat brought in this morning alive who trusted me enough to set him free out the bedroom window, as the chipmunks, bunnies, frogs and katydids my cats bring to me relax and know that I will set them free and not hurt them. The squirrel who knocks on my door every morning knows that neither I or the cats or my dog will hurt her. They all co-exist and rather happily. It can be done once we accept our connectedness and stop treating each other as pests.
They are all Bambi.
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