My Little Ronaldo

There's those certain times when you just need to be alone for no particular reason. Well, I was having one of those moments, so I changed into shorts and a tee, plugged in my earphones, laced up my shoes, and went for a jog. I tried to clear my thoughts, to make some sense out of the jumbled mind I was currently having. Hoping that the fresh air and exercise could remove all my question and frustration.

No such luck. I finished my five rounds in record time, all the while observing the people around me. I watched parents taking their children out to play and realized that the older you grow up, the less it's about you. I realized that right now, I was in my prime stage of life when I want literally everything to center around me. I wasn't like a selfless parent, giving up her precious time for her children out of love. No, instead I was struggling with sharing the spotlight, because there was no love intertwined.

I headed to the park still trying to find answers. Stood at the top of the slide for a while, taking in the fresh air, listening to music, thinking. I observed a couple swinging, absorbed in each other. I watched a young dad come back from work and welcome his children with a big bear hug. I smiled to myself as a few little boys marked out goals with shoes and played a little game of soccer on the sidewalk.

And then, I met my little Ronaldo. I had moved to the swings and was swinging back and forth ever so slightly when Ronaldo ran up and sat on the swing beside me. He was barely 3 feet tall, clad in a Manchester United full jersey, with the Number 7 and Ronaldo etched on his back. He struggled to sit on the swing and finally, with a decisive push, plopped down into the seat. He turned to me, gave a shy little smile, and then started imitating me, swinging himself back and forth. I smiled at him, and we swung together in companionable silence. We swung together for about 5 minutes before he hopped of his seat and ran to join his brother.

I sat for a while longer, observing the little children playing together, even if they had met just two seconds ago. I watched as my little Ronaldo nearly fell, burst into tears, ran to his mommy, and then five minutes later was good as new, running around and playing. I watched as a mother pushed her son on the swing, a big smile and laughter written all over the little boy's face. I watched the innocent joy of a little boy when he found a toy car under the slide and ran to present it to his grandfather like it was the greatest treasure in the world.

And suddenly it dawned on me that maybe my little Ronaldo had taught me the greatest lesson of the day. That in those five short minutes, he'd shown me how to be innocent like a child, to enjoy every moment like there's no tomorrow. He showed me how to forgive and forget when you've had a rough day, been wounded, or nearly fallen. But lastly, sometimes it only takes a little time to make someone's day. No words said, no elaborate actions. Just, being there... being you.

So I want to thank you, little boy in your oversized red number 7 jersey, for giving me those precious moments today, and for making my day. :)