Even a Child

Family camp-out
and I’m mildly
peeved
that my air mattress
leaked last night
and left
hardpan and stone
as Nature’s bedding.

Night two,
mattress repaired
and airtight,
but at midnight,
from grandsons’ tent,
cheek-by-jowl
with ours,

the five-year-old
shrieks,
terrified or angry
or both.

I confess:
Were I the parent
I may have
shamed him:

“Shush, you’re
waking everyone.”

But his wiser
mother
soothes and comforts
and
the eight-year-old
who, the day before,
announced he
was feeling
“love for everything,”
asks his
younger brother,
“Did you have
a nightmare?”
Which the youngest
somehow knows
is a cue to
laugh,
which he does,
saying,
“you have no idea,”
and giggles.

I cherish
being taught
how
even a child
shall lead them.

(Photo by Margaret Weir; UnSplash)