Vitamin Lead

Today we celebrated my daughter's first year in "real" school with a May Tea, an extravagant pink affair complete with genuinely caffeinated tea and fresh lemon curd. The efforts of many families combined to transform a side room of the gym into an awe-worthy setting:  Flowers,and gold tea spoons bestowed grace on ordinary folding tables, china teacups lent solemnity to the guests.

Oh, the beautiful guests. Finery from rumpled plaid shirts and brightly-colored ties to gauzy dresses and straw hats for the girls painted the children in a picture of propriety all afternoon. They sat (or slouched) on their folding metal chairs, they stood on a short riser and recited their year's worth of poems and songs, and they fit the part of tea guests to a ... tea.

Not to be outdone, the parents donned their best threads as well. I, for example, spent much of this happy event oogling my husband in his fifteen-year-old suit jacket and tie, lovingly purchased together as newlyweds for his college graduation. It looked as sharp today as it did when we selected it -- probably because he wears it so rarely.

I think my husband enjoyed the view as well. I purchased my first pair of dangly earrings for the big day, found a new sweater to brighten the dress my daughter suggested, and wore my silver high heels. I'm still enjoying the outfit even now - loathe to bring a close to the personal sonata my earrings provide. Even Grandma joined in, hobnobbing with the rest of us as though there was nowhere in the world she'd rather be.

And why not? Would any of us have preferred to miss out? The hassle, the hard chairs, the unfamiliar, texture of our first bite of real crumpet .. even the discomfort of conversing with the total stranger who's passing the cream ... these things are a particularly delicious pleasure when experienced at the request of a child. Wear a suit, Dad? Why not! Sew a flower on my tea hat, Mom? Sure thing. A thousand tiny adventures, many into neglected or uncharted waters, all for the sake of one girl? But of course! It's a sweet price, gladly paid, for her happiness - a little paradise purchased by love.

There's another Paradise I'm thinking of, now. Another set of adventures, another unprecedented feast. And this Paradise, too, features youth, "A little child," the prospective guests are promised through prophecy, "will lead them."

Isn't it fitting? Isn't it right? Who better than a child - any child, or perhaps the Child - to lead us into delights beyond the scope of our brittle adult imaginations? I look forward to that future feast with joy, letting the anticipation deepen my delight in all the little foretastes this sweet present life provides.

"Except you become as little children, you shall not enter the kingdom of God."