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Jordan's Walk
By Jenny Rackley
The first time my son, Jordan, and I went out for a walk together, he was 15 months old. We went out into our cul-de-sac on a bright spring day and walked around the circle. I had walked with him before, carrying him in a sling or a backpack, but this was the first time since he was walking by himself.
Or rather, we tried to walk. Jordan would stop and lean over suddenly and pick up a leaf. He held it up for me to see, and I explained what it was: a leaf, brown and crinkly. He crushed it between his fingers, and we walked a few steps more. Suddenly, he leaned down to caress a velvety green patch of moss. I knelt down with him and stroked the moss myself, describing its softness and rich, green color to him.
The next thing Jordan saw was a pile of dirt. With this I had mixed emotions, but I remembered running my own hands through the dirt as I helped my mother in the garden, and later as I potted my own plants. I remembered the feel of the rich dirt on my hands, and the rewards and joys that came from working with dirt and growing flowers and other plants. Jordan tentatively reached down and sifted the dirt through his fingers. Then he reached down again, and tossed the dirt up into the air gleefully.
When he turned from the dirt, Jordan noticed some rocks. He grasped one in his hand, then noticed another one a few steps away. He walked over and picked the other one up with his free hand. Then he tried to take a third rock, and realizing three rocks wouldn't fit in two, little hands, he dropped one to take the other. He did that several more times, discarding nonfavored rocks for preferable ones. Finally with a rock in each hand, he was ready to continue.