Little Steps

The other day, we paid a visit to my nephew, where we had a chance to catch up with our grand-nephew. He’s about 18 months old now, lively and curious and fun-seeking, a wonderful little guy with blond hair and a chuckling laugh.

While there, I watched him walking about the flat. He’s a bit unsteady of course, as kids can be, but he’s confident in his home, climbing the furniture and crawling under the tables. We played the walk-ride game where a child stands on your feet and holds your hands while you walk. It always brings a smile to both the rider and the ridden, and it reminded me of playing the same game with our son.

Kids learn to walk at their own pace. For our son, it came at about 11 months. We took him on a visit to France, and we stayed at a country farmhouse in the Gard, outside the market town of Uz├Ęs. The house had been lovingly restored and had the original flagstone floors in the kitchen and rustic tiles in the living room. Outside there were large shaded patio areas that were covered in gravel.

He was still crawling when we got there, but the rough surfaces soon had him standing alongside chairs and low tables and taking little shuffling steps. By the time we got home, just before his 1st birthday, he was ready to walk having practiced standing for a few weeks.

Life’s like that – people respond to incentives. Little steps towards a bigger goal come from the nudges that nature or parents place in our way. Little steps, like the little ones laughing and toddling into a parent’s outstretched arms. Or little steps like those cramped first strides in the crowd at the start of a marathon. There’s a goal and there’s a start, and there’s the steps to get there. Little steps.