My grand-daughter Aria, the 3rd of four children, is teaching me, who am also the 3rd of four children, a wonderful lesson.
Aria is three years old. She is a whirlwind of energy but also the one who stops what she is doing, whenever we visit, to color a picture of a rainbow and give it to us.
Aria is a bright and fiery spirit who adores her older brother and sister and insists on being part of all their activities.
Aria’s name can mean lioness, treasure, strength, or song, among other things. She is all that and more.
Aria lives life fearlessly.
This means to go down the slide at school headfirst because why not? To follow your older brother across the highest bridge to the highest slide in the playground because it is so much fun.
Aria also dwells in that marvelous world where beauty and fantasy and truth all co-exist; so that the story you want to happen becomes the story you live that day. Thus Aria will come home and announce at supper that she saw a unicorn at school today.
Aria is all in, all about living life fully, no matter where she is or what she is doing.
When I walk into their house, Hanah and Elijah and Aria often hang up a blanket over Elijah’s bunk bed and hide behind it, waiting for me to find them. If I don’t come soon, Hanah and Elijah may drift away, but Aria waits and waits to be discovered. And when I do finally come near, she gives the most whole-hearted, loudest shriek imaginable. She doesn’t care how long she has to wait; she dwells in the joy of the game.
Aria is the third child in her family. I was the third child also. But there the similarity ends. I was the quiet one, who melted into the woodwork. Who sometimes felt unimportant. Less than.
Sometimes I still feel that way, at night when I am tired and listening to my fellow choir members talk about all they do. Planning and carrying out a spaghetti supper fundraiser. Going on a cruise in Norway to see the Northern Lights. Flying to Florida to visit friends. Going out to shows at night.
And the later the evening gets and the more tired I am, the more I begin to feel that they are more interesting than me. That they live more vivid lives. I feel more and more flat, more and more beige.
To which silliness Aria would say, I am certain, if I ever tried to explain it to her three-year-old self… what does it matter what other people do? Be yourself.
Love the moment you are in, the life you are in, with your whole heart and soul and mind.
Expect to see unicorns at daycare.
At swim lesson, love the water so much that you jump right in.
Run as fast as you can, whenever you can, and don’t stop until you have to.
Wear your special dress with the rainbows on it to school, as often as you can. Don’t wait for a special occasion. Don’t save it for church. Wear it now. Wear it often.
Use every color in the box of markers life gives you. Make a rainbow. And then give it away.