Fleeting Childhood

Aia Jaber

Ikick my shoes off and drag my feet across the hot sand, excited for a new day. The sun shines brilliantly, embodying the happiness I feel, and the wind is cool, drying the sweat running down my face. With school out, I can spend every moment on the swing—going higher and higher until I feel like I’m flying. I savour every moment of what it means to be a child before I have responsibilities that take away precious time to play or sit in the sun. Before I find myself behind a desk, slaving away at a 9-5 or rushing in between buildings on a big campus. Moments are fleeting. Childhood is ephemeral.

Being young is beautiful. It is filled with innocence and love. Warm hugs from family members and random sums of money on Eid from strangers. You don’t fully understand your existence at such an age, and once you feel like you do, you are entering a new phase of life, and can begin to raise children of your own. But the most beautiful aspect of childhood is the mercy and love Allah (swt) has for children—to the point where He has implemented protection for them in this dunya and the Hereafter.

Allah (swt) understands childhood is temporary—as all phases of life are—but He cherishes the development of His creations and creates a cushion within which children may learn right and wrong through trial and testimony. Allah (swt) does not expect one to know what to do or how to live when they have no knowledge. In the short time we develop rationality and experience, Allah (swt) chooses to dismiss our sins until we hit puberty and develop greater intellect on matters of everyday life. In a hadith by Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) recorded in Abu Dawud, he said:

“The pen is lifted from three people: from the sleeper until he wakes up, from the child until he becomes an adult, and from the insane until he regains his senses.”

Allah (swt)’s love for His creation prompts kindness and tolerance. God is not unjust. We should always remember,

“Allah does not burden an individual beyond their capacity”

(Quran, 2:286)

Climbing up the stairs of the jungle gym and sitting across the hot plastic, our moms eagerly take a picture of our little frames against the bright red slide. Little is needed to make children laugh— their smiles are won by a mere tickle or inflection in our voice. They have not a worry in their minds as they familiarize themselves with their surroundings, their family, and Allah (swt). Upon coming across such a vulnerable and heartwarming entity, we feel the desire to shield it from the world. Like a delicate flower or a pet we love, we understand that some beings need room to grow and become stronger. And thus, Allah (swt) has implemented a blanket of protection until the child reaches an older age. Only once they are balagh—having reached puberty—will the angels on their shoulders begin to count their bad deeds. The mercy of Allah (swt) is such that He has decreed that bad actions will not be recorded by the angels, but any good deeds will be rewarded in a child’s life. If a child is to pass away before reaching puberty, they are automatically guaranteed Paradise, as their souls are pure.

Chasing one another across the park near our homes, and meeting children from school you don’t typically see in classes is part of the excitement of childhood. Days spent ripping grass out of the lawn and rubbing sand against our legs are soon replaced with moving your finger across your trackpad to press “submit” after completing an assignment. Half days of kindergarten and colouring time become long work hours and taxes. Riding in a big yellow bus soon becomes commuting to work or school in your own car. Childhood is short-lived. It is one of life’s beauties, for, if it were long, we would never appreciate it. Instead, we spend lifetimes reminiscing on tales of our youth and memories of our innocence. We recall moments our parents held our hand as we skipped down to the park, and how it felt to hide from them when it was time to go home.

It is a peculiar sensation to revisit elementary schools, childhood homes, and old playgrounds. Before, they seemed so big. We would struggle to throw our shoes on the racks above our hooks in the halls, and we’d feel the walls were too big. Now, we are double the height we used to be, and ten times wiser than before. Our past feels small—we’ve outgrown it. We have limited memories of our short-lived innocence, and we know we cannot go back in time to enjoy it.

My favourite activity at the park was sitting on the swings at sunset, feeling myself go higher and higher. You feel capable. You feel invincible. You truly feel like you are flying and that nothing can hurt you. And while there are threats to children, none are related to the Akhira. Allah (swt) has promised children peace in the afterlife. So, while childhood is fleeting and dearly missed by many, the cycle of life continues. One day, you will have your own children, noticing parts of yourself and your distant childhood within them. The years will fly by and your sons and daughters will grow up—once again pushing you to miss the essence of childhood and understand that it is ephemeral. Phases of life never last long enough.