Monday, September 17, 2012

A Fleeting Vision

I was walking to class this morning when I saw him. There was a sea of students coming from the opposite side and passing me. Students walk quickly and purposefully in between various buildings on campus at this time because there are only 10 minutes in-between classes at my new university. I try to avoid the multitudes as much as possible, but this morning I stopped by my office before class, so I just had to walk around and across dozens of students to get to class.

It was in this fleeting, hurried moment that I passed the young man with the zip-style quart bag half-full of cheerios. While walking, he would dip his hand into the bag and fill his mouth with the crunchy "Os," and I couldn't help it, the vision just came to me.

He was slightly short, had a cleanly shaved face, bright blue eyes and light brown/dirty blond hair, but in that instant I saw the beautiful baby he must have been, with his blue eyes intently concentrated in guiding his chubby hands to the little circles of cereal. I could "see" him stuffing his mouth with the cheerios   that covered his high chair's tray, perhaps spilling onto the floor below.

The vision lasted just a few seconds, but I knew that this moment had surely happened in his past. I also knew that the present moment was the perfect link between the baby he had been and the man he was becoming: the cereal that he'd learned to enjoy at such a young age can still sustain him as he goes about his day as a busy university student. Unconsciously, he must feel comforted by that familiar crunch and taste in his mouth. He grew up, but the baby is still in there.

I didn't have much time to think of his mother, but I'm sure she would have been happy to know that he was trying to get some breakfast on his way to class. She must have packed hundreds of lunches, cereal bags and sandwiches for him, and now he's on his own. Someday my sons will too and I hope they can find comfort in little things such as a baggie of cereal...

This post is meant to echo (very dimly, for I still have a long ways to go in my writing) the wonderful, evocative posts that my friend Aliki used to write and those that Jo(e) still writes. I miss Aliki's blogging so much! Good thing Jo(e) is always there to deliver her beautiful posts.

No comments: