Toddlers, Insects, and Philosophy

Last night I sang a song to my two year old granddaughter as the wind whistled ‘round us in a chill.

She watched my mouth move till it finished the last verse, then she sighed, snuggled, and was still.

“Why does your song sound very sad?” Her question surprised me; I admit it.

“Well, I was a firefly once, girl with curls, and, oh, oh, how I miss it.”

Her eyes acknowledged this as the gospel truth; her face turned down in a gloom.

But her brain was afire and her mind in a whirl because, this, she thought, will not do.

“I know!” she jumped back, almost out of my arms, excited with the promise of her fix.

“Be a ladybug instead, Nana that I love. Then you won’t feel sad and sick!”

She used her pointer finger like a little professor, as she explained her answer to my plight.

“See, ladybugs are good and come out in the day. Fireflies? They’re stuck in the night.”

“And ladybugs? Well, they don’t have to shine; they just have to have fun when they fly!”

“Why you little rascal! You smart little girl. I’m happy you were here tonight.”

“Thanks to you, I’m a ladybug. Right here and now. Tomorrow, sweet girl, I take flight!”

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