Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, March 1, 1993 TAG: 9303010197
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A-7 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: MONTY S. LEITCH
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
MAKING AUNT MONTY SQUIRM
MY YOUNGEST niece spent last weekend with us. She's 3 1/2, petite, and so pretty that complete strangers stop on the street to stare.We spent a fair amount of time together in the car, getting to and from her home, to and from the grocery store, to and from Ice Capades; and until our last trip together, when she was so exhausted she fell asleep, she chattered brilliantly throughout our drives.
"Who are those people in that car up there?" she asked me at one point.
"Goodness, sweetie, I don't know," I said.
Brief pause.
"We don't know who they are," she told me, "but they know who they are."
Give yourself a minute to think about that.
Later in the weekend, again in the car, she asked (a little wistfully) about the rest of her family. "What do you think they're doing now?"
I suggested having lunch, having a nap, any number of things I thought they might be doing at 1 o'clock in the afternoon. Then, hoping to brighten her spirits, I asked her, "What are we doing now?"
"Going to see the ice skaters!" Of course. Said with a dazzling smile.
But a minute later she told me, "We know what they're doing, but they don't know what we're doing, do they?" And again, when we drew closer to our destination, "I bet those people up there might be going to see the ice skaters, too." Pause. "They know who they are, but we don't know who they are, do we?"
Now, maybe this is normal for 3-year-olds. I don't know. One of the disadvantages of being a mere aunt is that I don't get to see the children often enough to fully grasp the culture that's their lives.
But my niece's musings struck me as peculiarly and deeply philosophical for anyone, let alone for one so young. Isn't her question almost the same as "What is the nature of knowledge?" Or, "How do we know what we know?"
Of course, everyone knows that children often stun us with their observations. Speaking out of innocence, speaking out of a consciousness that grasps best absolutes, they often drive directly for the heart of the matter. And so, they make us squirm.
To joke, I tried turning my niece's observation back on us. "Ah, but they don't know who we are, either. We know who we are though, don't we!" I said. "Who are you? Who am I?"
Happily, she said our names. And that was that, for her; she turned her concentration to her sugar-free chewing gum.
But me? I drove on, mentally squirming. Oh, good grief. What am I, indeed?
Monty S. Leitch is a Roanoke Times & World-News columnist.