It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men. ~ Frederick Douglass

One of my favorite versus from the Bible, one of the few that I can actually recite from memory if given a moment, is Matthew 18:3.

And he said: "Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. 

It seems a truism that throughout human history, our children exhibit our best qualities as a species. They are often kind, compassionate, full of energy, filled with boundless curiosity, earnest. Their senses and perspective aren't yet closed off, cynical. They can believe in a magical human riding in a sleigh pulled by reindeer which can fly around the world and deliver gifts to all...in one night. They want to believe that there is endless bounty.

The act of comparing spirituality to 'child-like' sensibility isn't restricted to Christianity either. Not at all. Just one example from Buddhism:

A Child’s mind is Buddha’s mind. Just seeing, just doing is truth. 

 In this passage, at least for me, the meaning is quite similar to that of Matthew, if shorter. Children certainly may learn to tell falsehoods, to lie to their parents and others. But I don't believe that children yet lie to themselves about who they are and what they want. They live in the moment energetic. It takes the machinations of an adult mind to lie to oneself, the adult guilt that is rationalized away, the adult who believes they might be incapable of something without even trying first, or giving up after a small effort.

At some point, many children loose that divine, God-like, Buddhist-like mind and enter the miasma of 'hell' known as adulthood. Some might shout out right about now: "It's called growing up! Ya' two-bit new-age Buddhist/Jewish/Christian/Islamic/Hindu self-helper!" Well, I'd only point out that some of the greatest spiritual works of humankind argue directly against that. If the wisdom taught over millennia isn't convincing, then I encourage you to look at your own children and how happy they can be even in the most difficult of situations. (Of course, not all. Disclaimer.)

To that end, I offer my own small contribution to the wisdom of childhood.

I Do Not Fail Enough

I do not fail enough.
And when I do fail,
I weep too much.

How better it is to laugh
at each and every failure
to revel in the attempts,
the challenge,
to pick oneself up,
smiling
as a baby wobbles
from the seat of its poopy diaper
to its pudgy feet,
trundling forward only to fall again.
And yet someday
     to walk,
                   nay to run!