The picture is of my brother and me - at ages 3 and 2, respectively. We are wearing our parents' down vests which, my mother reminds me, were very 'in' at the time. I love how tightly our hands are clasped; I love how unbridled our joy is, the joy of children before they have become aware that they have 'selves' to project and protect and get in the way of all sorts of things. But most of all I love the little blonde boy in the picture... he is all grown up now, except for - well, except for a great many things. And that is just one of the things I love about him.
1 comment:
...and the little girl was always so protective of her little brother, so happy to have such a playmate, often grabbing that hand and off they would go to play.
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