The Young Master

He went to reach for his toothbrush, felt a brush against his leg, two sleepy eyes look up at him, Solomon smiled, inside he thought to himself, I hoped you would stay in bed, even an hour would have been great, that plan is gone, he continues to wash his teeth instead. Little hand reaches for his, Solomon smears it with paste, watches while the child imitates his moves, his small eyes watching how he moved the brush across his mouth, half laughing, but seriously laughing, glad to have a role model, one he

could argue with, one he could ask, one he was not afraid of. Stern words were never spoken, just a cast of the eyes and a frown did the trick every time. The routine is finished, the time for the breakfast, Solomon does the big friend thing, sits down and eats with the small boy. Slurp after slurp, the watchfulness of the young master, imitating the teacher, a wise young child.

How Children imitate it all; and how those charged with responsibilities tried to blame the individual for their failures. Later; He hears the cot move, the time is early morning, Solomon sighed; so this is what it’s like to be a mother, your children take your attention and time. The stuff Solomon learned from the young master, amen.

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