With the popularity of smartphones, we are surrounded not only by people talking on the phone but also those hooked on the Internet everywhere. It occurs to me that being adults is a beautiful thing in that we can travel between the real and virtual worlds as we please.
A few days ago Von received printed mail sent to his grandma’s address. When I informed him of it, he was full of question marks, replying, “You are the only person that sends letters to me. Who else can it be?” We took several minutes to discuss the possibilities in our telephone dialog. This is a four-year-old who doesn’t watch TV nor has any access to the Internet. He does not go to school and lives with a small family. There’s only the single aunt who has nothing better to do than write to him on a weekly basis. Adults would certainly freak out on thinking of such a life. How to kill time without any link to the cyberspace? Von reads, plays, and IMAGINES. As a matter of fact, every adult had once a similar life, but the self-entertaining part was replaced by the online world at a certain age.
Kai, almost two years old, never fails to leave his creative traces wherever he passes by. When he saw the empty bin of strawberries near the trash can on his visit to the kitchen, he put it on as a square hat and looked at me with a hint of mischief in his eyes. When he was forgotten in the game of hide-and-seek, he remained quiet in his corner while deriving fun from scraping off the wallpaper. In my opinion, apart from not understanding why he was reprimanded, he seems to enjoy his life filled with rich creativity.
No wonder William Blake said, “The child is father of the man.” I explain it as, “Many adults have lost the ability to imagine.” So I can only cling to my remaining portion by writing to children.