When Kids Act Like Kids

Yesterday when Abel and I went for our walk in the afternoon, there was a farm stand set up at the intersection in front of our condo.  It was operated by Leyton and Lucy.

Leyton was probably somewhere around eight years old and Lucy may have been six. I’m not very good at guessing kids ages, but I think that’s a good approximation.  They were selling tomatoes for a dollar, or the same price for two flowers, all of which they’d picked themselves.

Their mother was there and she watched as Lucy asked if she could pick out my two flowers and I said, “yes.”  She was trying to grab a smaller one, but her mother insisted she give two big blooms.  And then she chose my tomato too, a small yellow one.  The mother said I could choose any I wanted, and pointed out some larger more ripe looking ones, but I took the one Lucy chose.

All through this, Leyton was putting my two dollars in his toy money register, explaining how much money they’d made already and how his register wasn’t supposed to be for real money, but that he was making it work.  His mother gently said he shouldn’t talk about their earnings in front of customers, that he should just say thank you, all the while smiling as if embarrassed by his straight-forwardness.

I hope she wasn’t embarrassed though, and that I’ll never be embarrassed when my kids act like kids.  It was wonderful to see a child take pride in getting a return for the work he’d put in – you could tell it made him eager to do it again.  And I loved the truth in how Lucy seemed to pick out the smaller flowers and tomatoes because quietly she hoped whatever was left at the end of their sale would go home with her, and she hoped to have the best for herself, because she’d picked those flowers and wanted to enjoy them.

The sincerity of children is so refreshing.  They are open and honest, two things I strive for more and more.  At times being candid can seem severe, but in the end it feels better than anything else, because you’ve put things out there in a way that denies assumptions and allows authenticity to shine.