friday haiku (and some thoughts on Elliott)

Having a good day?
How is your family doing?
Love he shows strangers

::

I haven't encountered many 10-year-olds with a more generous heart and empathetic nature, especially around strangers and animals. One moment that really stands out from our recent family trip to Edinburgh was on the last day in the late afternoon when we were checking out of a store.

Elliott studied the cashier and then said, "How are you doing? Have you had a long day?"

The shopkeeper was a little taken aback but responded in a lovely Scottish brogue, "Well, my little has been keeping me up a wee bit at night. Makes for a long day."

Elliott nodded, looked her right in the eye and said earnestly, "How is your family doing?"

"Why, very well, thank you," the shopkeeper laughed. "What a kind young man you are."

It's so true. He annoys the heck out of his brother and can be stubborn as all get out at home, but he's always the first to say "hello," greeting passersby in the street, showing an interest in the lives of others, picking up on the moods and struggles of strangers. Partly I think he's just hyper-observant. (Favorite line of the trip was when he leaned into me while walking down a crowded street and said quietly, "So, when I grow up, I can smoke?" Clearly he had observed that only adults were smoking!)

Elliott has always been an enigma. He processes academic information with a significant delay. He has trouble distilling the "why" of a given situation. He goes blank when asked to parrot back the details of a story he's been told. But he surprises everyone with his keen pitch and rhythm. His penmanship and eye for detail in coloring and drawing are praiseworthy. He blows his brother out of the water playing video games. He can read upside down. I have no idea what any of this means.

I do know that he also genuinely loves interacting with people. I used to think it was his way of connecting and trying out his verbal skills. I now see something deeper. Elliott seems to innately recognize one of the greatest lessons my mom taught me: "Everyone has a sign over their head that says, 'Make me feel important.'"

I think about this adage often and try to act on it. No one taught it to my son. It appears that he was just born knowing it.