Glimpse: Hiding

If I can't see you, how can you possibly see me? The little girl runs behind the chair and sits down. Invisible.

- Where's my girl? Anyone see where she went? 
- Is she under the table? 
- No, not there. Behind the couch? No. 
- Did she go into the kitchen? No. 
- Edith - are you lost? where are you? She's gone ... can't find her anywhere. 
- Edith?

A little head appears at the side of the chair.

- There she is. Where were you?

The head withdraws - gone again!

The game goes on (and on!)

Each time she disappears. Waits to be called. Reappears. Each time new - still believing I can't see her if she can't see me. 

- Don't know where she is.

I sneak up to the chair. Look over the top. There she is ... sees me ... new game: run away from Grandad. 

I follow her around a circuit of furniture. I stop and turn around. Catch her - lift her. Tickle time. She hadn't realised that the rules had changed, and if I turned round she would run into me.

We try again - this time I tell her when I turn back. One false step, but the second time she hears me, understands the new rules, stops, and turns when I do. I just can't catch her.

It is amazing to see a new person learning. Adult eyes see it all. We are amused, feel superior, pleased we have grown so much and aren't fooled the way a child is.

But really, have we learnt that much?

We still believe that if we can't see things, they don't exist.

We still run in the same direction (sometimes expecting different results!)

And too often, even when we are told we need to change direction, we just can't.