The Sunshine Child

The Sunshine Child

A Chapter by Nicholas

Everyone comes from somewhere...


There used to be a happy little boy.  

He used to be seven years old, in first grade.  He used to be bright and happy.  He used to radiate enthusiasm, so that everyone else came alive when they were with him.  They used to smile--young and old alike--and say "he's so cute, he's so happy" and he would grin.  He used to have a grin like the sun.

He used to bubble with energy, always running, jumping, running circles around the play ground.  He used to race and run, around and around, circling the baseball field, or back and forth across the soccer field.  

He used to be the first one out, for recess from school, and run to play on the tar, and throw the tennis ball at the wall.  Off the wall, that was the game.  Or perhaps it was called "wall ball."  The rules were simple, little kid rules, fun rules, simple rules.  You throw the ball at the wall.  Simple.  If it hit off the wall, and someone caught it in the air, or if it bounced before the wall, and the ball hit the wall before you got there, you got 1 "strike" and 3 strikes meant you were "out."  But once you got the tennis ball you could only take 2 steps, that was all.  It was a fun game.  A lot of running.  And running. A lot of smiling.   

He used to love it.  

He used to yell, if he got angry, but always he would get over it, and be fine.  He would yell, and then, 5 minutes later, he would be laughing again.  That was how he was.  He was a sunshine child. 

He used to be the wild one.  The crazy kid, always on the field, the foremost in their little wars.  They were little kids, of course they fought.  In recess they had wars, the boys and the girls.  Vicious, savage affairs, but fun.  Tears shed and grins won.  And laughter, always laughter, with a teacher always there to wipe away the tears.  

When the boys began to win, every day, only his friend--everyone used to be his friend--Matt went to help the girls before he did.  Then he joined, the defender, joining the girls, fighting for them, because that brought a smile, to his face, to theirs.  

Because he could be wild, savage, and revel in the joy.  

When Alex grabbed Matt, the sunshine child used to be there, always, just steps away, the avenging wild sunshine child, a crazy giggling laugh bubbling, a grin illuminating his youthful face.  The sunshine child, the avenger, "bowling pin!" he would yell (too young yet to realize that the pins were the ones knocked over),  and crash into the kids, the boys who were on top of Matt, and knock them all over.  

He was the wild king, the crazy kid, light of joy always in his eyes, playing, crazy.  

He used to play soccer, and dance across the field, chasing the ball down, vigorous, vengeful, the Sunshine child, charging across the field, and kicking the ball, rushing, running, free and wild across the fields, his long golden blond hair flowing behind him like a banner, the banner of the sunshine child, his laugh, his grin were infectious, and everyone laughed, even when they cried in the wild crashes, their tears always melted off their faces, dried by their joy, the wild, youthful joy, and the energy of their sunshine kid.  

He used to be the captain when he built the huts and teepees in the woods.  He was there, hauling the most logs, propping them up, building it, feeling the joy of making something with his own strength.  

He used to be the defender, the first to chase away the attackers, when they came and tore down his teepees, he would run with the pack of his friends, and chase away the older kids, or the younger kids who dared attack his fortress.  

And always there was a wild, savage, youthful joy in him.  

He was the Sunshine Child.  

© 2011 Nicholas

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Added on December 23, 2010
Last Updated on September 1, 2011
Tags: Memory



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