Sometimes It Only Takes A Hug

The Garden Guru and his crew were busily installing the irrigation system for the 5th Grade Garden today.  The 1st grade and I watched intently, making sure to stay behind the yellow caution tape.  There was a lot to see - white plastic tubing, metal welded connectors, wooden garden beds - and a lot of questions to be answered.

What's Irrigation For?  What's Irrigation Mean?  Where's Irrigation Come From?  How do you say Irrigation?   It's confusing to be in the mind of a 6 or 7 year old.  The questions come with baggage - What if it's a leak?  Why is the tube white?  Can I turn it on now? - that is sometimes understandable (Grandma's Garden hose leaks and makes mud puddles; our tubing is black; that handle is just sitting there waiting for me to turn it.)

Sometimes there were no questions at all, just a gentle tug on my coat of many colors and a tilted head.  Does she want to get in front of me so that she can see?  Nope.  Does she want me to explain what he's doing right now?  Nope.  Does she need to tell me something?  Nope.

So I reached down and pulled her close.  Her arm went around my waist and I leaned into her, letting her hold me up just a little, taking the pressure off my achy hip.  She felt my weight shift and pressed back just a little bit stronger.  And then, she was gone.

Grandma! Grandma!  He was mean to her and she told me and we are telling you and she is sad and she's here/over there/on the ground holding her knees.  There was something in the air today, something that sent 5 and 6 and 7 year olds racing across the map of the USofA painted on the concrete, jumping over the hop scotch painted under the solar panels, clamoring for my attention and my love.

Because that's what I was dispensing all morning - love. 

Is the ground that tripped you okay?  Did you crack the concrete?  Is it sad?  Let's go check..... and so we did, to the tune of the boys telling us that the cement can't talk and the sniffles of the injured party.
We inspected and were able to determine that the menacing crack in the pavement was neither crying nor repentant.  We spent some time hollering at it for getting in the way of our friend, then, giggling and holding one another, we found a ball and played 4Square. 

Grandma! Grandma!  I have a boo boo... a scrape.... loose skin.... an untied shoelace.  It's a good thing that hugs are infinitely retrievable.  I needed a lot of them today.