We recently took our first family trip to Disneyland. My two year old and my not four -but four and a HALF- year old were excited but once inside the gates they were overwhelmed; they were tense and big eyed. Then we went on It’s a Small World. “Can we do that again?” my son asked while my daughter wailed “After All, After All again, again!” So we went on it again and again. The first time, seeing their joy and amazement, the second time my husband and I, feeling magnanimous in our choice to come here. On the third time round I was just thinking this is getting ridiculous, it hit me. I found my self in tears. All the children of the world happily singing in their own language the same song. Over and over and over again. I suddenly flashed back to when my son was born and I was in those crazy new-mother months. I had just had this perfect little boy and we had just invaded Iraq. I kept imagining somewhere in Iraq there was a new mother, just like me, holding her new baby, blown away by the love if it. She feels the same as me, I would think. I worried about this mother a lot that first year, how do you deal with a new baby plus bombs flying over your head? She must be so scared, trying to protect this little thing, being completely powerless in the situation. She is singing a lullaby right now, I would think as I sang one; she is watching her son sleep, just like me. I felt this bond with this woman I did not know, I would never know, I just knew that she was there. And then over the years I thought of her less and less and with the birth of a second baby, when your mind really goes, I did not think of her at all. Then here, on It’s a Small World I thought that baby, her baby, would be four and a half too. Does he have moments of joy and wonder like my son right now? Does he have a little sister? Does he let his mommy snuggle him for just a minute before dashing off to the next thing? I know how she feels when she holds him: she wants him to be happy, and she wants him to be safe, just like me. I believe we are all the same, no mater what race, religion or place that we live. I believe a mother’s love is the same in any culture and her fears the same too. I believe that children start alike and can be molded toward hate or toward love. And I really do believe that there is just one moon and one golden sun and a smile means friendship to everyone. There is so much that we share that its time were aware, it’s a small world after all.
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