Nuthin special
I got a kid what's nuthin special.
She's jes a kid, thet's all.
Course she's the purtiest girl in this neck o' the woods,
--in the whole world, if the truth be told.
An' her hair shines so bright, --brighter'n the sun on a duck's back. An' it's so soft thet ya jes wanna reach out
an' take hold o' it 'cause it'll make ya think 'bout them satin dresses like a bride puts on fer her own weddin day.
But thet don't make her special.
Her eyes, I'm tellin ya, them eyes is three differnt kinds o' brown, --like in them things ya get at the carnival. Ya know them things ya hold up ta yer eye an' if'n ya turn 'em they make purty pitchers o' differnt colors all in a circle. Thet's kinda what her eyes is like. An' she growed the longest lashes what ya ever did see, an' them there lashes is so thick an' they make her eyes so dark thet ya jes get lost in 'em sometimes when yer lookin at 'em.
Her nose, --now if that ain't cute as a chick jes hatched! It never done growed since she was a babe, I swear! I kin 'member back when she were jes a little critter, no bigger'n a skeeter ('cept'n ya didn't never wanna swat her nohow), she had some o' them glasses what keeps the sun out, she did, an' they sat right thar on her chin, more oft than not, 'cause thet little nose o' hers jes weren't big enough ta do the job . . .
but thet don't make her special neither.
Her mouth is small an' purty an' it makes the cutest shapes when she's talkin to ya or singin a song. Why, ya find yerself so busy jes watchin the shapes thet thar little mouth is makin thet ya plumb ferget what it was she were sayin anyhow!
Her cheeks are round an' soft, like a newborned bunny. An' ya know what they done? Oh, I laugh jes ta think 'bout it! Them cheeks done growed a whole bushel full o' the cutest freckles what yer ever gonna see. Some big an' some little, settin right thar on her nose, jes ta have a place so's they wouldn't fall off. Now, that's really somethin, ain't it?
I s'pect yer guessin thet them things make her special . . . well, I cain't say as they do, --'cause they jes don't.
Even the hands are purty on thet kid o' mine. An' she's got the sweetest mole on one o' them long fingers! (I know she growed thet mole jes fer me.) 'course thet ain't one o' them moles what digs up yer garden or nuthin. This here mole's what city folk call a beauty mark. Now don't thet jes beat all!
Awhile back she growed some real cute legs, --sorta like ya see on them barbie dolls what them rich kids play with. An' them legs kin carry her fast an' sure, --like a pony runnin free. ('cept'n when it's time fer chores, if I'm truthin with ya, 'cause then she's most always runnin the wrong way ya know). An' her arms pump hard when she runs. Now them arms ain't big like a boy's, but thar's a mighty power in 'em, --a mighty big power fer such a little pup as her . . . < br>
but thet still don't make her special.
Honest folk'll tell ya thet she's jes a little bit o' fluff, but she looks long an' lean anyhow. Her littleness, it'll fool ya if'n yer not thinkin 'cause she's jes small enough ta hide if'n she done somethin she shouldn'ta did, but she's plenty big enough ta jump outta the barn an' scare the pants right off ya!
Thet kid's real smart too! Why, she's even smarter'n the president of these united states, I'm thinkin! Why, she kin figger out anythin she sets her mind to. Don't matter what kind o' growed up problem she's thinkin on. An' she jes can't never figger out nuthin what she don't wanna know, --jes like a cat. An' thet's mighty powerful smart!
Yer thinkin how all thet stuff makes her purty special . . . but it really don't, ya know.
Ya gotta understand thet my kid, --the one what's got all them wonderful things what don't make her special, --
well, thet kid's real powerful special anyhow.
See, my kid's got a smile what'll knock the socks off a rooster at twenty paces. An' there's a sparkle in them eyes, --if'n the mood strikes her fancy, --what kin put the sun an moon an' stars ta shame.
Her hair looks difernt most every day, and the way she changes her clothes'll befuddle yer mind fer sure. 'cause jes when yer thinkin she's a mighty young little critter, she comes strollin down the lane, all gussied up real purty, jes like a lady what's gone ta one o' them finishin schools. An' when yer tellin folks how growed up she's gettin ta be, that she comes runnin ta meet ya, with her jeans rolled up ta her knees an' yer very own shirt hangin all the way down past what she sits on, an' four pair o' socks stickin outta her shoes. (All differnt colors them socks is too!) . . . an' all the charm of a real live princess!
An' she cares, --she jes cares her heart out--fer all God's people. The runt o' the litter'll always be her special friend. An' when she cain't give nuthin more, she'll jes give ya a smile an' a prayer. She knows'bout how all God's folk are good enough if'n they jes act nice, an' if'n they ain't actin nice, she'll jes be prayin fer 'em anyhow.
Now I gotta tell ya 'bout how thet girl kin laugh. Why, she kin laugh so real thet it warms the coldest heart an' makes ya wanna jes be all day right by her side. An' she laughs at her ownself mostly, 'stead o' laughin at other folk. I s'pect thet's why her laugh is full o' sunshine an' never mean an' ya jes gotta laugh right along with her.
Thar's times when them eyes o' hers git all dark an' broodin and ya knows she's jes frettin in her mind 'bout some kinda sadness, --other folks' sadness, oft as not. An' ya knows she ain't gonna let no light git in them eyes till she gits it all worked out. But soon as she gits it fixed up right with God, thet girl's eyes kin jes sparkle an' shine! Why, them eyes'll shine 'most as bright as thet star what God built fer the baby Jesus! The shinin o' them eyes'll make yer whole day a happy place ta live in.
Them hands o' hers kin do all kinds o' stuff. They kin sew an' crochet and do all them things what womenfolk do. An' they kin cook up some vittles what'll get yer mouth ta waterin an' swell yer belly fatter'n a prize pig. An' them hands kin move real fast ta stop a kid what's been throwin stones at the bull. An' they kin be real gentle with a little tyke what hurt hisself or a newborned babe what wants holdin. Them long fingers is real good at dryin tears. If'n yer big or if'n yer little, she'll jes wanna wipe yer tears away.
Thet kid o' mine'll use her mind ta think o' the nicest things ta do fer folks, --like makin ya a card when yer ailin, or drawin a purty pitcher fer ya when yer sad. An' outta thet little mouth comes the sweetest words what ya ever did hear, jes exactly when she gets a knowin in her heart thet yer needin a little kindness.
Why, she's got a spirit what kin run free an' wild like a deer --an' she'll carry ya with her on her dreams if'n ya kin jes let yerself be rememberin what it's like ta be a child.
See, all them things what God gave my kid, --thet stuff she was borned with, --thet don't make her special at all. Them things jes make God special.
It's what she done with all them things, --how she knowed enough ta use 'em fer makin smiles an' love, an' how she knowed enough ta share all them good things what God gave her an' use 'em ta make folks happy . . .
Thet's what makes my kid special.
Connie "Uch" Uchima
August 1, 1986
return