secrets

I got the chance to meet one of Sir’s little cousins over winter break. He is five, shy, all around adorable and afraid of Santa Claus (well not the one that gives him presents, but the one who his mom would like to take a picture of him with in the mall). When I met him he had recently finished performing in his school’s Christmas music pageant. It had been quite an ordeal for him because as a kindergartener his teacher had instructed him, and all of the other students, to keep the program a secret from their parents. Of course the parents all knew that the program was coming up. I’m sure they had it marked in bright colors on the family calendar and would talk about it with their respective children when they were home from school. Except that the children couldn’t do much talking. It was a secret. There was no discussion of which songs they would be singing, no helping them learn lines at home, and worst of all no shared excitement over the upcoming program they would be putting on for their parents and families.

He seemed relieved that the program was over and yet a couple days past was still not very forthcoming with details. As a five year old he had endured the trauma of mandated secret keeping from his closest loved ones. I can’t imagine what that must have been like because I, even as a somewhat mature and well adjusted 26 year old, burst at the seams when I have exciting and good news to share. I remember telling anyone who would listen to my crazy story the day after I met Sir. Some people would kind of stare at me in dumb amazement, while others would ask questions and want to join in the excitement as well.

And well isn’t the sharing what it is all about?