I'm no doctor, but I have things to say.

I'm not a doctor, and I'm not a mommie. A doctor would care about a cut. And a mommie, well mommies always care. But Stephenie doesn't seem to care that I'm not a doctor and that I'm not a mommie. She doesn't care a bit that she doesn't even know me. She tells me about her cut anyway.

Stephenie is a little three year old who one day at work (I work at a daycare) took her finger, and after staring at it for a bit, strut over to me and stuffed her finger in front of my face. I said "what Stephenie?" and she told me, "I fell off my bike yesterday and my finger got scraped on the cement. See? I still have to wear a bandaid." And I smiled and gave her finger a kiss, which apparently was what she wanted, and then I ushered her back onto the play room to play with her friends.

I think it is so simply beautiful that a child can talk to me about the tiniest thing and believe that I will care. What a powerful gift. What if we all could simply tap into that ability to say how we feel, and what we are thinking, and what is going on in our lives? Little Stephenie wanted to know that I cared, and I think that's what we all want. But no one can ask us what's going on in our minds or in our lives if we don't show them some part of it. We may wonder why no one asks, why no one cares, and the answer is we don't stick our fingers in front of anyone's face and say "This is what happened to me yesterday. See?"

Perhaps the solution as to why no one asks about our lives is that we don't ask them. And so maybe we need to learn to ask questions like kids ask questions. Out of curiousity or care for other people. Or maybe 'just because'. I hope that I can be curious like a little child and be willing to share what I think and what I feel with those around me, trusting that they will care about my sore finger, even though they aren't doctors or mommies. I hope you can too.

So what happened to you yesterday? I went hiking.