I have been known for saying that we never know who our real teachers are. We have an idea on who is qualified to teach us on a variety of subjects, but surprisingly, the one who gets the lesson across is usually the one that we least expect.
A few nights ago I had such a lesson. Those of you who have read through some of my other experiences may notice a distinct difference in the writing style, but this is the best way that I can see to let you all in on a night in MY house.
I have a five year old who often comes to sleep in between my husband and myself. There is something in his room that is noisy, and if it wakes him at night, and he can not get it to be quiet, he just comes into our room for a bit of quiet sleep. Generally he does not wake his Daddy, and we have our most revealing conversations during this time. I have interrupted sleep, so sometimes we just use the time to talk.
As my son and I were laying in bed, we were staring up at the ceiling fan and out of the blue he whispers to me "You 'K, Mama?"
"No. But I'm little, I gots lossa problems."
"I get treated like a baby."
"Oh, I hope you do not think Mama does. I TRY to treat you like a little man."
"I know, but sometimes big people forget."
"It IS hard. I only met you six years ago. That makes you young in my book."
"Time to turn the page, Mama."
All I could do was let out a surprised guffaw. I really was not expecting that come back.
"What do you think?"
"Yep. You are 'fused."
"Yep. Mama read some stuff today that I am having a problem processing. It is about the white and black areas and when the heck did they become gray."
"Oh. Gonna axe sometin?"
"Do you mind?"
"Nah. I gots plenty of time."
Well, without telling you the ENTIRE conversation, which I think you would enjoy, I will tell you what light was turned on in MY mind.
We checked out the ceiling fan, and the shadow it created on the ceiling, the lack of light behind the door, and the shadows on the wall and ceiling beside the window.
I asked my son about Shadow people. I saw a story on site that confused me, as I have no real experience with them. I have a book knowledge, but that form of knowledge HAS been found to be lacking in some other areas.
He pointed to the night light and said something to the effect of: the light around the light is a reflection. A SMALL ways away from the reflection, it "melts" into Shadow. For the rest of the wall, all of THAT is in shadow.
I pointed to the shadow that was cast on the ceiling from the window. I pointed out that the tree outside looked a bit spooky. It LOOKED like the tree was ten feet higher that what it actually is. With the school being across the street, the light coming through that window makes it EASY to see anyone walking by, trees, cars, even if they ARE on school property.
My son looked at me like I have just sprouted the most hideous appendage.
"Mama. For real, you think that is the shadow from the tree?"
I pointed out the tree in the front of the house, and the light from the pole. HE pointed out that if the window and the window casings had a "tear off" like the Nascars do, and you could just peal off a layer, and slide it up the wall (WITHOUT changing it's position, just lift it off and slide it up) THAT would be the reflection of the LIGHT from across the street. The TREE (also "lifted and slid") that I thought to look spooky, (was ONLY the BOTTOM branches that I was seeing) was a SHADOW of the tree. The darker shapes AROUND the "slits" of the blinds were ALSO shadows- but of the curtains that I had forgotten to untie before bed.
The Shadow that was waving in the breeze outside, and beside the tree, but seemed to overlap it (you know how the shadow gets darker when there is an overlay of them?) was NOT outside. There WAS no breeze ("See? Are the BRANCHES moving, Mama?").
Of COURSE it is. How would it get there? The only light IN the house at that time was the night light, on the OTHER side of the room.
My son CALLED to it.
He said "You can move now."
He said, "Could you wiggle?"
He said "Why are you HERE?"
It SEEMED to SIT.
At this time, I had inched myself UP on the pillows and onto the back wall of the room, crawling on my back and feeling like I was not moving quickly enough to get out of the room. I was SCARED OUT OF MY MIND. I have NEVER heard ANYONE tell a story about COMMUNICATING with a shadow. They see them out the corner of their eyes (I have too), they have TOLD it to leave, but it did not respond, and here my five year old was asking it questions.
When my son was done talking (amazing how we never woke Daddy up) the shadow seemingly stood and returned to where it was before it got our attention.
I looked at my son and told him that there are nights when I hear a light, very quiet tapping up against the wall I tried to climb. "Does it sound like beads tapping the wall?" "Yes."
I also told him that there are nights when I swear I hear a car door, tell Daddy to go check it out (WHAT? I am supposed to check out possible visitors at night?) to find no one is around.
I told him that I hear someone opening a pop can (You know, the click ssshhhh that comes when it opens?) and tell sissy to stop sneaking pops at night. "Is it right outside your door?" "Yes." "WHY would sissy open it there and NOT in the kitchen?"
I hear the dryer door at night.
Occasionally the back door is standing open when it was shut and locked.
The sliding door seems to open and close on it's own. ONLY at night.
"What the question, Mama? You know why."
"Who?" I whispered, staring up at the shadow lest it "jump down" and attack.
"Do we hafta know WHO we are here ta help?"
"Well, no. Not if our heart is in the right place."
"Guess we LIVE in the right place, too, right?"
"Oh yeah, buddy. Now go to sleep. You scared me enough for tonight." SMILING through that whole last sentence.
He dropped off to sleep quickly, and I sat (Yep, never slid down off that wall until day break) up watching the shadows.