“I shall live forever and ever and ever ‘ he cried grandly. ‘I shall find out thousands and thousands of things. I shall find out about people and creatures and everything that grows…”
– Collin in “The Secret Garden” by Frances Hodgson Burnett

Childhood’s Secret Garden — PART THREE

The subject of childhood’s innocence has gripped me ever since I became aware I was losing it.

Perhaps, a disclaimer would be fitting here, for those who may feel I’m overselling the whole notion of childhood innocence.

Benjamin Myers argues in an article titled The Sentimentality Trap that “any Christian poet caught blathering about ‘the innocence of childhood’ should be forced to read St. Augustine’s Confessions and made to work twenty hours in the church nursery. Anyone caught posting such a poem on the church bulletin board should be assigned to monitor the fourth-grade boys’ Sunday-school class.”

Ok, Benjamin- point taken! Not long ago, I too was a 10 year old boy, irreverent and crass, vying for laughs in our church basement Sunday school class. And yup, the nursery scene isn’t exactly a paradise!

But hear me out.

Though certainly marred by the curse and fleeting, I believe every child experiences a season of life that in some degree mirrors the first humans’ experience in Eden.

The Genesis account describes Adam and Eve as being “naked and unashamed”- a short-lived condition that was marred by sin’s entrance into the garden. Then their gaze turned inward and they hid, snatching branches and leaves for a makeshift covering.

There is a real connection between a little child’s openness of soul and the freedom they enjoy in their own literal skin. They are blithely unashamed in the exhibition of their outward nakedness, just as they are not bashful of expressing the reality of their true selves.

Jefferson Finley age 3
“To tend and keep it”

Like Adam and Eve enjoying the abundance of fruits which grew on every side in Paradise, an infant finds complete sustenance and comfort at Mother’s breast.

The Creator set clear boundaries in Eden, not because He wanted to gleefully watch His image-bearers stumble through a maze of rules to their inevitable ruin. Rather, it was the Love of the Life-Giver longing for a child who would reciprocate.

“You shall not eat of the tree…” should be viewed as boundaries placed by a loving parent who recognizes the danger and pitfalls that lurk on the outskirts of paradise for their little ones.

Don’t touch the hot stove. Never cross the road without me! The knife cupboard is out-of-bounds. Don’t get in a stranger’s car even if they offer you candy. Our passionate love for our children and our deep desire to see them live, grow and thrive compels us to set boundaries to protect their innocence and well-being.

“Have dominion over every living thing”

What about a child’s insatiable zeal for knowledge? In my mind’s eye, I can see Adam exploring his realm with child-like awe. It seems that the Creator designed him as such. He gives Man the responsibility to name the creatures. It’s a task fit for a creature with “Imago Dei”. Beyond the animal instincts to find shelter, fill his belly and procreate, humans are instilled with a desire to dream, explore, name, dissect, organize, build, enjoy beauty, and to create music and art.

Christopher John age 7
“What ever Adam called each living creature, that was it’s name.”

I have often been gobsmacked by my children’s ability to take in information, file it away, and then recall it months later with astounding accuracy and detail.

Each of these comparisons could be entertained and refined to much greater length. I shall stop with this brief overview.

When I was 16 years old, standing on that threshold between childhood and adulthood, I remember feeling things that I couldn’t quite explain. Excitement for the future was clouded by a sense that I was losing something, an innocence and freedom that would never be experienced again. The world of adults was alluring, but scary. Possibilities embedded like landmines underneath the myriads of roads potentially taken in that yellow wood.

So naturally I wrote a poem. I titled it Tread Gently Life

Tread gently, life,
Along this new-blazed trail;
And softly roll
Away the shielding veil.
Unfold with care
These petals, few and frail;
Blow slowly wind⎯
Delay the sudden gale.

Write lightly, life,
Upon this empty scroll;
Inscribe thy name
With mildness on this soul.
This heart is young
With miles to reach the goal,
And ages hence
Before the belfry’s toll.

Tread gently, life⎯
Thus would I have thee come
And go.

Today, 18 years later, I better understand what that teenager was trying to say.

But apparently the simple words spoke to other hearts too. A good friend of mind, who was a gifted musician and song-writer, composed a tune for Tread Gently Life complete with 4-part harmony.

A few years ago, I was pleasantly surprised when he sent me a video of a local Mennonite school closing program. One of their songs was Tread Gently Life.

You can watch the video here. The song starts around the 52 minute mark. Music composed by Leon Miller.

Most of the dear young people singing a beautiful rendition of Tread Gently Life in that school program are young teens, around the same age I was when I penned the words. What do those words mean to them?

We can’t freeze the clock. Old time does it thing and we must go along for the ride. As adults, we wander the borderlands, we hang in limbo between a paradise lost and a promised new creation.

Childhood is so special. We mourn those little lives who are born into terrible situations and suffer countless ills that are outside of their control. We grieve the blights we have suffered as exposed young buds, not yet ready for the untimely freeze.

We long to protect the innocence of our own little ones. And we are all too aware of the insufficiencies of our own homes and the many ways we fail to provide the complete safety, nurture and love that was first and fully experienced in Eden.

Just today, my dear little 3 year old son heard the brutal truth from his big sister- “We’re all going to die someday.” He reacted strongly in protest. Indeed not! I’m NOT going to die!

There it was. The cracks are already showing in the beautiful mural of Eden that surrounds him.

Yes, I assured him gently. We all need to die someday. Young people sometimes die, but it’s usually old people.

That was enough for him at that moment. He happily moved on.

But I felt it deep down in.

Tread gently, life!