reach

Now she has begun to reach. It is not a gentle massage of the air or a tentative flexing of her muscles. No, she cranes her neck and thrusts her arm out. She reaches with her entire being. With intention, as the Mindfulness folks would say. She stabs at a textured block. She bats a plastic JCC rattle. Why do I study her? What I am looking for? Some secret. Here it is then: we want. As soon as we can, we do.
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Josh Neufeld Comix and Stories said…
Yes. And as we saw her with Chance, her little Vietnamese-American friend—the victim of her reach—we want what other's have. We want more than we can hold. We hoard. We steal. We invade other's personal space, living space, national borders.

Not our sweet little Phoebe!
December 19, 2007 at 12:12 PM
Muttering said…
Yes, our girl with one, then two then three plastic vehicles tucked under her body, her arms pulled in tight, head forward as if she were clutching a football and barreling down the field toward the end zone. . .

Oh, my, it is easy to make metaphors of baby behavior!
December 19, 2007 at 4:10 PM
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