Lost Childhood
By Fr. Andy Davy MIC
What tragedy to see
Streets clean
Every ball ... mitt ...
Exchanged for the ever present
Screen.
And the child who played
In that Sandlot
Pick-up game,
Kickin' puddles up
In the rain,
Has lost space for fun.
For the tike is now under the gun
Of competition.
Enlisted at seven
To train for the MLB heaven,
And yet deprived of critical leaven.
Ah, Levity! That gift needed
To expand the heart-but now
Draft crashes start
With Gravity:
A soul called to play
For love of the game,
Where the streets
Have no name.
We need Fievel's Star
Bringing siblings back from afar,
To the dinner table
Of family's desire.
Where children are fed
With so much more than bread: the hungry heart
Is killed too quickly by growing up "smart,"
Compressed in the Machine
Of educational, institutional insanity!
And they are not allowed
The childhood
I had:
Toes in the grass.
Feet in the sand.
Walks with my Mom
And Dad.
Life already goes too fast.
Why push rapidly
Little child's years past?
This poem speaks about how certain aspects of a child's growth have been sadly lost in the contemporary culture, due to over-accenting competitive sports and other activities to such an extent that the child's heart and soul, which needs to grow at a quieter and slower pace, is being stunted in their overall human development. The poem is meant to be a call to discern and pray on how to bring back to the family the silent "Marian" values of the home at Nazareth. (Note: "Fievel's Star" is in reference to the movie "An American Tail.")