Tantrum

Some weeks ago, Caleb, wishing for his way,
Lay on the floor and drummed his heels.

I called the brothers to watch this tantrum,
A part of child development that each son attempts once.

We all laughed, and Caleb, on his dignity, stopped.
He hasn’t tried again.

I think about that display of frustration.
We stood around this little man

As he tried to figure out how the world works,
And we all loved him, despite his naughtiness.

We all want good things for him,
And have compassion on his sorrow.

I wonder if, after we are glorified, we will look back on our lives
With fondness, even for the stumbling bits,

Knowing that we were mostly doing the best we could.
I wonder if even the failures will seem both petty and precious.