Seeing the Child
Photo by Gudkov
A few months ago, I sat across from a woman and her little boy in the tram. The boy was sitting in a stroller, looking around with wonder. He smiled at everyone who caught his gaze. He chuckled and laughed, sometimes mumbled a thing or two to himself. Everyone around them looked at him tenderly, smiling with this sweetness in their eyes.
Then, about a month later, I was chatting with a friend while we waited in line at a supermarket. Behind us, a little boy was playing with his shopping cart when he suddenly bumped it into my friend. We turned around, smiled kindly at him, and then we kept talking as if nothing had happened.
In both moments, I couldn’t help but wonder: would we have the same reaction if the same things were done by adults instead of children? For instance, I sometimes feel a bit uncomfortable when someone talks or laughs loudly in public spaces. Would I feel differently—heck, maybe even feel loving—if it were a child laughing loudly instead?
So, let’s revisit the same events but with an adult this time. Imagine an adult looking around with curiosity, smiling widely at people around them, mumbling to themselves. Or if someone bumps their shopping cart into us by accident, would you experience the same emotions in both moments?
As someone grows older, when do we begin to see their actions differently from those of a child, and start offering less of the love and grace we so easily give to children?
It’s a quiet shift, often unnoticed, yet it shapes how we relate to the people around us.
And for our peace of mind, how long do we cling to minor annoyances?
Which of these actions are actually harmful or hurtful, and which receive our judgment simply because they don’t fit the “norm”?
Only you can make that distinction for yourself, but I’d like to offer the invitation to pause and bring that awareness.
Of course, there are always nuances. Some behaviors require a certain maturity that we expect from an adult. And I’m not excusing inconsiderate, rude, or harmful behaviors, no matter the age of the person. But I wonder how far I can extend more grace, love, or letting go in the smaller moments. The next time it happens, can I tap into another emotion—within me or the other? And shift my reaction from judgment to connection? Maybe instead of feeling uncomfortable when someone laughs loudly, I can tap into the joy they’re feeling and simply enjoy it with them.
If all else fails, I’d imagine the wide eyes of a baby orangutan and find that pureness every time 😉.
What are the small daily moments that tend to bother you?
Would you feel differently if a child had done that instead?
Is there another emotion, within you or the other person, that could help turn the experience toward connection and compassion?
