I Want Him to Keep It

Friday was the May festival at Tamarack Waldorf School. It was a good day for it, sunny and warm. In the past, seeing as we live in Wisconsin, there have been May celebrations at the school when the weather was rainy, windy, and cold. That sort of thing makes the gatherings less than festive. However, Friday was perfect for getting the kids outside. We all met at Pulaski Park, which is a tiny green space next to Wolski’s Tavern. In Milwaukee, it seems like nearly everything is close to a tavern. It’s a cultural thing, neither good nor bad. It just is.

The Waldorf school makes great efforts to connect class activities with the natural cycle of the seasons. The May festival is the annual observance of spring. The kindergarten students had their assembly in the morning, so that was when Asher was there with his classmates.

At the beginning of the festival, everybody, including children, parents, and faculty, gathered in a large circle around a low hill in the park. The children and some of the adults wore colorful headbands, many with flowers. A small maypole stood at the apex of the knoll.

One of the kindergarten teachers led everyone in reciting a long verse in praise of spring. The spoken portion of the verse was accompanied by movements to encourage all participants to get their whole bodies involved. The teacher talked about the warmth of the sun, the gentleness of the rain, the beauty of the flowers, and the new life exploding all around us.

It was a moving ritual, and it harked back to times when humans were much closer to the earth and its rhythms. There was a vaguely pagan feel to it, but that’s okay. We have forgotten much of what our ancestors knew intuitively, and we have to relearn these things.

After the verse, the kids ran wild. Some went to the playground. Some threw rings around the top of the maypole. Some drew on the ground with chalk. Some blew bubbles. Some ate popcorn. Asher found a jump rope, and for the first time ever, he actually jumped over the rope successfully.

My wife and I mingled with the other caregivers. I have been trying to network with parents from Asher’s class. We want to organize play dates so that Asher and his classmates can keep in contact during the summer break. That is important for Asher, and it is also good for us as Asher’s legal guardians and de facto parents. We need a sense of community. The other caregivers are from a generation that is much younger than my wife and me, but we all have the same mission. We are all trying to raise the next cycle of children in a world that is not often friendly or forgiving.

I talked with a father about the future of the little ones in our midst. I told him what I hoped for Asher.

“Asher has a gentle soul. I want him to keep it.”

Just achieving that much is a huge challenge.

My wife and I talked briefly with a young mother. She has three kids in the school. We explained to the woman about Asher and our struggles to care for the boy. Raising Asher is an all-consuming task for us. She listened to us patiently. Then she said, “He will grow up to be a good human being.”

Asher is only one child in a world with billions of them. There are so many kids on this earth who are suffering. Karin and I can’t save them all. It is all we can do to care for just one of them.

Asher is in the springtime of his life. Now is the time for him to grow and flourish. This is the time for him to become who he is destined to be. If Asher grows up to be a good man in a broken world, that will be enough. Maybe more than enough.

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Frank Pauc is a former Army aviator, a longtime trucking-company supervisor, and a contributor to The Havok Journal. A West Point graduate from the Class of 1980, he completed the Military Intelligence Basic Course and flight school, served with the 3rd Armored Division in West Germany and the 7th Infantry Division at Fort Ord, and left the Army in 1986. He later taught citizenship classes through Voces de la Frontera in Milwaukee, took part in peace and protest work, and writes largely about veterans, family, grief, and the long aftermath of military service.

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.