The innocence and naivete of a child highlights the realities of life, as I observed during a recent visit with my son’s family in Williamsburg, Va.
We met there to experience the re-enactors in this re-constructed community and to celebrate two grandchildren’s birthdays. Our oldest grandson turned nine just after Christmas. The youngest granddaughter will be three in February.
The first day’s cold, damp, windy weather detoured us to a store with a spacious toyshop. The baby checked out everything: The stuffed animals, the stick horses, the wooden puzzles, the plastic toy swords and shields. Finally, she settled down and tried on the creative hats. She wore a sift purple dragon’s head while she sat at a small table and played a game with her father. Then she discovered a shiny, metallic cloth Roman soldier’s helmet with a drop down visor/chin guard. She knew exactly what it needed. She went back to the bin with the plastic swords and returned a triumphant knight in shining armor, ready to fight dragons.
It was the perfect gift for her birthday. I said I would buy it. Her momma found a small white stick horse with the tiniest white, cloth horse head, frilly decorations and purple reins. The child loved it. She put the stick horse between her legs and galloped around the shop ready to conquer dragons. Her mother bought the horse. In the parking lot, before climbing in our vehicles, we pulled out our birthday gifts. The child smiled as only an almost three-year-old can and promptly pulled the hat down over her eyes and insisted on wearing it that way in the car.
The rest of the extended weekend visit she played knight in shining armor. She relented long enough while her siblings went to the arcade to show me how she could jump off the couch very precisely to its three cushions she had arranged on the floor in front of it.
She begged to play hide and seek with a sample detergent box and eagerly told me every time where to find it. I placed it in the open at her eye level for her to find. She looked up, down and all around for several minutes before she discovered it.
The next day we visited Williamsburg – built shortly after shining armor had declined in use as too bulky for the battlefield when strong enough to resist a bullet. Except for the baby who softly hummed to herself, we quietly listened to the re-enactor explaining the process of the court system. Wearing attire typical of 1775, he explained that a first time thief might be given a second chance but before he left the court, the sheriff branded his hand with a T. As he detailed that convicted murderers had 10 days to get their affairs in order before they were hung, my son took his humming daughter out to the hall. The same hall where convicted prisoners once walked on their way to the brick prison with cells containing a thin mattress, a brick commode raised three steps above the floor and not much else not even a fireplace – we noted as we shivered in the winter weather.
We welcomed relief from the snow-lined streets and shared hot drinks of cider, cocoa and coffee and gingerbread cookies from the ancient bakery. The little one mounted a street stage to show us how she could jump down. At her invitation her daddy and grandpa joined her for a group jump – although our little knight usually jumped long after the three count.
We stopped in and listened to the red-capped tailor perched on the windowsill explaining the difference between a seamstress and a tailor and the time it took to sew together an outfit. The wig maker explained that a person’s job, rank and position dictated the style of wig they wore. The man at the armory demonstrated how to load a gun, saying that a soldier was expected to load and shoot it at least six times in a minute while advancing on the enemy.
The little one waited patiently with her father or mother while the rest asked questions and expanded their knowledge. We stayed until the re-enactors returned to the 21st century. Then we returned to our rented rooms – where the child picked up her horse, helmet and sword and returned to the world of make believe.