The Catch
Juilfs Park
Being True: Hit or Miss
The
other day at this park, a tiny little girl practiced her batting
skills. She couldn't have been more than four years old. Holding that
bat, she pursed her lips in utter determination, and this kid was damn
good. She only missed when her Dad threw a bad pitch, but even if it
wasn't her fault, she still furiously dug her Velcro tennis shoe into
the pale dirt when she thought she had "messed up." She didn't cry. Oh
no, she grinned, stomped, planted her feet back into position, and
waited for the next softball, which was almost as big as her little
head. Next came her older sister's turn at bat. Taller, more lanky, and
seemingly easily distracted, older sis missed almost every pitch. Air,
whiff, foul, she didn't care at all. Her Dad laughed and told her to
keep trying, and she did, but she kept right on missing. Big sis seemed
much more concerned with fixing the tongue on her cool sneakers. When
Dad threw another pitch, big sis reached to pet the dog. The obvious
differences between the two girls was amusing.
But the scene was fascinating -- even when the older one repeatedly missed, they all cheered. And when the younger one killed that ball, they cheered her on too. There was no difference in the way that the parents reacted to the girls. Swing and hit, roar of applause. Swing and miss, roar of applause. Seemed that they were honestly thrilled to be hanging out together, enjoying the sun, and playing in the moment. What mattered to them was not the perfect pitch, the grand slam, the win, or even the game at all. What mattered was the support, the camaraderie, and the present time together.
To me, they showed a unique, rare display of true love; that is, they were encouraging each other to be their true selves, rather than putting "conditions" on love. Awesome. I wanted to join in and cheer for all of them. What it said to me: Hit or miss, I love you. Animals love this way. Animals love us this way. They are speaking to us all.
C.A. MacConnell
But the scene was fascinating -- even when the older one repeatedly missed, they all cheered. And when the younger one killed that ball, they cheered her on too. There was no difference in the way that the parents reacted to the girls. Swing and hit, roar of applause. Swing and miss, roar of applause. Seemed that they were honestly thrilled to be hanging out together, enjoying the sun, and playing in the moment. What mattered to them was not the perfect pitch, the grand slam, the win, or even the game at all. What mattered was the support, the camaraderie, and the present time together.
To me, they showed a unique, rare display of true love; that is, they were encouraging each other to be their true selves, rather than putting "conditions" on love. Awesome. I wanted to join in and cheer for all of them. What it said to me: Hit or miss, I love you. Animals love this way. Animals love us this way. They are speaking to us all.
C.A. MacConnell
