Through the Eyes of a Child

The eyes of a child, so innocent and pure
A child’s heart is full of song
Take their tiny hand, and lead them to the light
As adults we see pain in this world
And it sometimes don’t seem right

But through the eyes of a child
The world seems magical
There’s a sparkle in their eyes
They’re yet to realise, the darkness in their soul
The beauty of their smile
Adventurous and wild
Sure life is kinda gay but it doesn’t seem that way,
Through the eyes of a child

 

There is an innocence lost every time you walk through the doors of a hospital (unless you’re there to poop out a kid or something, but that’s a VERY different blog). After I hugged Liana and squeezed Ruby (dog) for the last time I remember letting out a lengthy sigh as I pushed my through the entrance of what would be my indoor prison for the next several weeks. My mega-advanced thirty year old brain was able to rationalize the fact that I wouldn’t be seeing the light of day, breathing fresh air or experiencing the concept of “outside” for a while…but what if I had a child’s brain? How would I understand, let alone cope, with the heavy facts that I have to deal with on a daily basis? Would my underdeveloped little consciousness be anywhere near equipped to fathom the idea that I’d have to stay inside all day, let alone comprehend the heavy realities of disease and mortality?

DON’T WORRY: This post is NOT going to talk about kids with cancer. That topic outweighs me completely and I’m not going anywhere near it.
I worked with kids in a former life. I ran summer camp when I was a younger man; I went to school thinking I’d be a teacher, and I worked as a substitute for a while. I have a decent understanding of their perspectives for a 30 year old childless man, so when a friend of mine who teaches third grade said she had her class make me a bunch of cards I was ecstatic! I was excited to be able to glimpse into their little 7-8 old minds and see how they were able to process the concept of “sick guy with cancer” and maybe gain a little insight from their youthful perspectives.

So don’t give up even when the road seems long
Just find that child inside of you
Yeah you got to find you
Spread your wings and fly

Would they have any real understanding of the gravity of this assignment, or would it just be some arts and crafts busywork for them? Turns out it was a mix of both, with some extra developmental weirdness thrown in for good measure! I brought the cards into bed a few nights ago and figured I’d get a cute little bedtime buzz from some pure childhood innocence: I was mostly right. The cards were filled with jokes, love, questions, art and some utterly weird non-sequiturs.

Cute as fuck, right? I grinned ear to ear reading these things in bed. There was a very real and honest work put into these cards and I felt their cute little efforts deep down in my heart.

My new friend Wendy took the time to tell me a joke, let me know that they are all cheering for me and she hopes that I feel better….and it DID make me feel better!

Things took a semi-dark turn on a few of the cards, though. For all the innocence and purity in a child’s heart, all the youthful sparkle and magic, there is always some hidden pre-developmental sociopathy that rears its demonic head at the weirdest of times.

Through the eyes of a child
The world seems magical
There’s a sparkle in their eyes
They’re yet to realise the bastards they really are.

This card, for instance, ripped me out of my warm fuzzy daze with its military violence inspired cover art.

And then the inside was filled with images of gun violence….

I see a man, very pleased with himself, shooting another man who is currently being hung by his neck from a cloud. Beneath that there is a corpse who has been in the ground for quite some time (I’m assuming this based on the artist’s choice of lead pencil media, as I assume this was his way of expressing the passage of time and decay) under a headstone that looks like a bloody toothbrush.

This was quite jarring at the time, but in their defense I believe these themes were expressed due to an interest in video games. This is slightly less nerve wracking than my initial assumption that I was being targeted for a gang hit. For an instant the scenario of having to consider what colors I will be able to wear once I’m released from the hut (which is a term for “jail” that I am assigning to an urban culture that I know nothing about. It works, though, right? “Yo man, how long you gotta stay in the hut this time?”) crossed my mind.

All in all, the experience was exactly what I expected, needed and wanted. I was able to once again experience the world through the eyes of a child, for better or worse. Thank you so much for this experience, Ms. Boots and your third grade class! I will be writing a much more appropriate (than this) response to your kids and hopefully when I’m out of here I’ll be able to come by your class and meet all of your little darlings and thank them in person. I’ll have to figure out what video games to talk about, though. Are 8 year olds still into Mario Kart 64?

 

**CODA**

I listened to “Through The Eyes of a Child,” from South Park: Bigger Longer and Uncut on repeat while writing this article, because I was trying to match the tone. It’s veiled as a gospel spiritual a la Michael Mcdonald, but contains some subtlely offensive South Parkian lyrics (as you probably noticed). One of my lovely cleaning ladies worked on my room today while I was playing the song. She is an immigrant from West Africa and asked me if this was one of my favorite spiritual songs, as she noticed I was listening to it over and over. I paused, smiled at her, and told her that it indeed was one of my favorite gospels and invited her to listen along with me.

I just couldn’t resist the urge to troll.