Be Not So Fearful

Gertrude feels with an intensity that should make the rest of us envious. She is so in touch with her emotions that sometimes they seem to come exploding out of her not from an emotional outburst but due to a simple overload.

The love you feel for a child is unlike any you will ever experience in your life. Your entire life becomes loving that child. If it means you will be cold, hungry, thirsty or wet in order for your child to be comfortable, you will do without. You don’t think about it, you don’t even hesitate. You just do. The love you have for a child is the purest, simplest, most basic love you can ever feel. More than you feel for a wife, brother, sister, mother or father. It may be the only unquestioning love you will ever feel.

The love that Gertrude feels, however, consumes her. It bursts out of her with an intense burning. She feels her love strongly and she wants to share that love. She wants to hug her sister, pet the dog, sit on mommy’s lap and stroke daddy’s cheek all at the same time.

But, Gertrude is two. In the daily flow of things for a two year old, she makes mistakes, does things she shouldn’t. Whether it’s dumping the contents of the salt shaker on the table and drawing in the pile of white crystals or trying to ride the dog like a horse, her natural curiosity gets the best of her.

For this she must be corrected. But for Gertrude, being corrected means that she has run afoul of mom and dad. Worse, we may be angry or disappointed. She simply cannot handle this possibility.

She crumples, cries and apologizes profusely, promising she’ll never do it again. (Invariably she does, because a toddler’s curiosity is not wired to a toddler’s sense of right and wrong.)

“Daddy,” she’ll sob, “I so sorry. I won’t do it again. I promise.” And she’ll lay her head on my lap, crying while I assure her that she just made a mistake, that we all make mistakes.

Last night as my wife and I were going to bed, we were discussing Gert’s emotions. And, once again, we realized that a song sums up everything we want to tell her about her feelings. (This kid is going to rebel against music.) This morning she and I listened to it in the car.

“Did you sing this to me when I was a little tiny baby,” she asked.

“No, I didn’t know it back then. But now whenever I hear it I think of you.”

“You think of me?”

“All day long, sweetie.”

“You sing this song and you will hold me in your arms?”

“That’s right. You’ll always be my baby girl. No matter how big you get, I will always hold you in my arms.”

“You will always hold me in your arms?”

“Whenever one of us needs it, I’ll hold you in my arms.”

It was quiet for a while, as we drove down the highway. “Daddy,” she said, “I love you.”

In the rearview mirror I could see on her face that she had the warm feeling of loving and being loved in return. If that, a cookie and a little juice is all you need in this life, you’re not doing too badly.

This is the song we were listening to. It’s written by Bill Fay and performed by Jeff Tweedy. The lyrics are below. And, truly, this is all we wish for our kids.

Be Not So Fearful

Be not so nervous
Be not so frail
Someone watches you
You won't fail

Be not so nervous
Be not so frail
Be not so nervous
Be not so frail

Be not so sorry
For what you have done
You must forget them now
It's done

And when you wake up
You will find that you can run
Be not so sorry
For what you have done

Be not so fearful
Be not so pale
Someone watches you
You won't leave the rails

Be not so fearful
Be not so pale
Be not so fearful
Be not so pale

You must forget them now
It's done

And when you wake up
You will find that you can run
Be not so sorry
For what you have done

Be not so sorry
For what you have done