Her Name was Chloe: Childhood Innocence Touches Deeply Within

The beach at the lake was filled, surprisingly so for a Monday; but it was unusually hot, even for a summer day in Wisconsin. Children of all ages laughed with and splashed their friends. Those not braving the cool water hugged the small amount of shade offered by the bushes or trees, moving their blankets as the sun shifted in the sky. A few had planned ahead and brought a large umbrella; there seemed to be plenty of beach space for these lucky few.

It was interesting to watch the children play. Although the common theme was to splash in the water, some preferred to be tossed by someone bigger. A few brought water toys; but for the most part, splashing in some form was the theme.

As the day drew to a close, an older couple came to the water with a young child, a girl about 4-years-old. Brownish-blonde hair, big brown eyes.

The child was very interested in playing with the adults, but she also liked to play with others nearby. She talked a lot, telling people who she was and that the woman with her was her grandmother, but she didn’t have a grandpa—the man with them was not related to her.

But what I found most surprising was her compassion and love for others. She wasn’t afraid of people like most young children are. She felt safe with her grandmother, safe enough to explore the world, always knowing she was not in any danger.

She played with others, sharing her water toys, and encouraged others to play, even the adults who usually just stood or floated in the water, not wanting to get too wet. Adults began to play again, to play like children. To play like Chloe.

Laughter was louder with the child around as she touched within everyone something that had been lost over the years. It was now okay to play, to splash others, to act like a kid again. Even if it was only for 10 minutes, the adults remembered what it was like to be a kid again.

My husband and I played with Chloe, then sat on the beach to have our supper. Chloe played with her grandmother and friend, but she would come to sit by us and talk, then run back into the water to play some more. People were important to her. She made friends easily and saw everyone as someone special.

As they packed up to leave, Chloe ran over to us and hugged us, saying, “I love you.”

As we drove home, we talked of Chloe and wondered if we would ever see her again. A chance encounter with a loving and wonderful child had affected us profoundly. She was so innocent and caring that we both smiled when thinking of her.

I wondered what would become of her, if going to school in the fall would change her or if she had the strength and determination to maintain her self-esteem and who she was. I hope she doesn’t change—she has great potential.

It is not likely that I will ever see Chloe again; if I do, I probably won’t recognize her as children change so quickly. But my thoughts go out to her wherever she may be.

Thank you for teaching me again how to play.

Best wishes,
Dr. Ronda

Disclaimer: The information provided by Dr. Ronda Behnke Theys is for educational purposes only. It is important that you not make health decisions or stop any medication without first consulting your personal physician or health care provider.