Simple Things

Growing up is hard to do, and a little bit sad. Many simple things are left behind. And there is no way to remember or recover the simple things without seeing them as they are being enjoyed. When I pray, "Jesus, give me the heart of a little child," do I have any idea what I am asking for?
We spent a busy and yet relaxing day today. A couple of subways and a train took us out the suburbs of Tokyo. For the first time since arriving here almost a month ago, we visited Christian Academy in Japan (www.caj.or.jp), the school where Aogu and I first met. The heart of the child was more in us then.
Old classmates now work at CAJ and we went to spend some time with them. Koji was able to enjoy a bit of play with...make that near...their 11 month old son. Next, we all walked out to an "obento" (box lunch) shop to pick up something to eat. Koji met a little girl on the playground where we settled for our picnic. She took him under her six-year-old wing and escorted him carefully up, down, and around the play structure. Perhaps I owe her some money now? That's the most relaxed lunch I've had in some time.
After filling our stomachs and covering ourselves with a fine layer of dirt, we retired back to our friends' place. While we poured coffee into any crevices not full of obento delights, Koji provided free entertainment by "dancing" (jumping up and down) to a Winnie-the-Pooh video.
It was a great visit, very low key but special. Just the Saturday Aogu needed.
On our way home, we stopped at an enormous shopping complex nearby. They are putting on a Sakura Festival this weekend. The Festival is unstoppable, though the requisite cherry blossoms have not actually bloomed yet...after a hot dog on a stick and some octopus balls (takoyaki), Koji had his most entertaining moment of the day.
This better-than-anything encounter occurred when he discovered a rock on the side of a path we were walking on. It was about five inches high and just big enough for him to stand on with both feet leaving a small margin all the way around. He got behind it and carefully climbed on, all without using his hands. After standing triumphantly for a second, he stepped off the front. Then he ran back around the rock (which makes it sound enormous, it was not), shouting his glee and preparing to repeat the performance. Which he did. Again. And again. Yet again. You get the idea.
My friends, though we were out all day and here and there expended a fair amount of effort to see that Koji was enjoying himself, the free and easy, there-any-old-time-you-want-it rock triumphed over all.
Aogu eventually dragged him away, literally kicking and screaming. Had he not, Koji might still be there, reminding me what is in the child's heart.