January 2: Fern Loved Wilbur, Kids, Sacrifice

Fern loved Wilbur more than anything.  She loved to stroke him, to feed him, to put him to bed.  Every morning, as soon as she got up, she warmed his milk, tied his bib on, and held the bottle for him.  Every afternoon, when the school bus stopped in front of her house, she jumped out and ran to the kitchen to fix another bottle for him.  She fed him again at suppertime, and again just before going to bed...

The one thing I remembered about Charlotte's Web before I started rereading it yesterday is that it's about unconditional love.  Fern loves Wilbur.  In the first chapter of the book Fern saves him from being euthanized by her father.  Wilbur, the runt of the litter, won't survive without Fern's ministrations.  He's weak and can't compete with his siblings for food and warmth.  Fern has to nurse Wilbur to health and strength.

E. B. White's book has a great deal to say about the nature of friendship and love.  Above all, love is about sacrifice.  In Charlotte's case, it's about ultimate sacrifice.  Charlotte devotes her entire life to her best friend, Wilbur.  In a lot of ways, it's very Christian in its narrative arc.  Birth.  Life.  Sacrifice.  Death.  Rebirth.

I understand the kind of devotion Fern and Charlotte exhibit.  For most people, having kids is a game changer.  Sacrifice is a daily exercise for mothers and fathers.  I don't get up at 4 a.m. every day and work 12 or 13 hours because I enjoy sleep deprivation and exhaustion.  I do it because I need to support my family.  I do it because it's my duty.  I do it because of love.

This morning, my son climbed into bed with me at around 8 a.m.  I thought he was going to start talking until I threw off the covers and got up.  Instead, he burrowed under the quilt, kissed me on the lips, and promptly fell back asleep.  For two full hours, I held his little hand and listened to his deep breaths.  I swear I could hear the blood rushing in his veins.  It was the best part of my day.

Sometimes, being a father is hard.  Punishments.  Doctor's offices.  School guidance counselors.  Head lice.  Sometimes, being a father is easy.  Holding your child while he sleeps.  Feeling your heart unfolding like some rare tropical flower, petal upon petal.

And that's a piece of Saint Marty's mind and soul.

Head lice, anyone?