I don’t know why, but yesterday evening I was suddenly reminded of the little boy who was thrown off the rooftop of Tate Modern the day that we were there.
I have tried, sporadically, to follow his progress, and, this time, it turned out there was news.
He is making progress, they say, and, now, ‘instead of plasters he has got a full armour of splints – legs, feet, hands, arms, neck and torso.’ His family call him “the little knight”, and he can now move his hand and arm.
More than this, while he still cannot speak, or eat, he has started to smile and laugh at funny stories his parents tell him.
And it’s this that tears at my heart strings most of all. It’s not just the sheer resilience of this small boy who has been shattered, physically never mind psychologically, in a way that no one should even have to imagine. It’s the enormity of the fact of this tiny boy who has emerged from the other side of that darkness able to smile, laugh and love. It’s the enormity of the fact that he still wants to live.
And so, jaded and achingly sad as this too-often cruel world can make us, there is something infinitely precious that this boy’s soul teaches me and that leaves me open-mouthed with awe. It’s his ability to find, be and create love and joy in the world no matter what he’s seen, or been through. It’s the simple knowledge that, when you are surrounded by love, as he is, this is possible.
New mum, old soul… Finding beauty, wisdom, spirituality, and opportunities for learning in the everyday (hopefully)…