A few days ago I stood on the sidewalk with my niece and nephew listening to them whisper, with their bodies protected in oversized helmets and kneepads waiting for me to take them across the street.
I shut my eyes for a quick second, tilting my head back with a smile. The smell of rain tickling my nose as the wind blew my hair away from my ears- “AUNTY MIMI!!!”
My niece shouts my name and I give her my attention.
“Azriel, says that he’s magical. Is that true?” My nephew doesn’t turn around for my confirmation but I can see his cheeks smiling in assurance that my answer will be yes.
I reply, “Yes, Azariyah, he is magical. I am magical, all of your Aunties and Nana are magical; I list all the family members she’s familiar with before she cuts me off and shouts, “I AM MAGICAL TOO!” Her smile is so wide, her eyes are glossy and it comes natural for me to smile back. With love and sternness in my voice I tell her, “You are! Keep on believing that”.
This was the fastest I’ve ever been able to mediate a conversation between a 6 and 7 year old.
We crossed the streets and rode our bikes away from the rain clouds, holding the magic in our smiles.