Moon Child

Yesterday, while reading a book called "Whole Child, Whole Parent" I came across a beautiful passage which I would like to share with you.

"As far as I know, all children are moon-struck. Even in the city where the lights blink and blaze insistingly, where the sky is often only a straight-up chimney patch, even in the daytime, if the moon is out-just a pale, pale sliver moon- the child will find it at once.
'Oh look, there's the moon!' Is the friendship between this round, clear wonder whose hand holds mine and the one in the sky (both with their whispers of faces) founded on a deep, inborn awareness of true calling? Does he already know, can he still remember, that the beauty and happiness of his whole life are to reflect a greater light? Does he already suspect that the darkness lies only in the shadow of turning away from the light in whom there is no shadow of turning? Does he already guess that in standing under (understanding) the light there is no shadow to be cast? See how he already casts about in the darkness for the light! This moonchild of mine keeps on reminding me that I must be moon for him as he is one to me."

When I was a child, I would watch the moon out the car window and marvel ed that it could move so fast as to keep up with us. I asked my mother about this. She said,
"The moon is not following us. It is just so big, that we can never pass it."

Zora Neal Hurston wrote a short story about her relationship with the moon.
One night, as a small child, she was out in a field. As she ran, she saw that the moon followed her wherever she went. She thought, the moon must love her. Must be her special friend. And she went out every night to play with the moon.
Until one night when she bumped into another child running alone in the field.
"What are you doing?" the author asked.
"I'm playing with the moon" was the answer.
"No you are not! I'm playing with the moon!" and so on and so on. Eventually they came upon other children who also believed they were the moon's special playmate. They soon found that the moon followed all of them. And they ran around the field, shrieking with joy. Chasing the moon, chasing each other.

Once, while I was still waiting for my baby, I called my mother on the phone. She lives across the country. It was nighttime and I was outside. I commented on the brightness and beauty of the full moon that was in the sky that night. She went outside and looked at the moon.
"Oh my goodness!" said my sentimental mother, "We are looking at the same moon!" and she had tears in her voice.
Of course I teased her about this, but it touched me too.

I see the moon and the moon sees me-
over the mountain, over the sea.
Please let the light that shines on me,
shine on the one I love.