Oh the simplicity of a good childhood. Within the confines of a family filled with loving care, the freedom to just be is found. The interplay between parent and child is a joy to watch opportunities for learning and growth abound. Seeing the world through the eyes of a child brings back the newness and excitement of even the smallest thing.
Observing village life here in Saint Martin, kids run free in the courtyard. Culturally such freedom and abandon took some getting used to. Where in the U.S. can children safely venture off to make friends and play while surrounded by restaurants and bistros? I cannot think of any. The island is a small town, with many different neighborhoods. The village at Orient is just that, a village. The French seem to look out for one another’s kids. The community is tight knit where everybody almost knows everyone. The kids are safe. Parents watch from afar and enjoy adult company.
People who live in the village love the pedestrian lifestyle. Each day shopkeepers and regulars go through their daily routines. Greetings, salutations, and/or the famous double cheek kiss are connecting points. Of course, there is also the juicy gossip to tickle ears and spice up the normal grind. Children walk and ride their bikes through the neighborhood after school without a worry. Village life is charming and homey compared to urban anonymity.
Each area around the island seems to have its own nucleus. It’s amazing to see community lived out. When our children were young we had to arrange play dates and drive them to numerous activities. The suburbs have no front porches and back yards are fenced in. Kids no longer can safely roam free anywhere, anytime, and, sad to say, not many places are safe for anyone else. Mass shootings, kidnapping, human trafficking… all have left their mark on the North American culture and have added to an already stress-filled life. It’s bad enough raising and feeding kids, and worrying about education, jobs, housing and on it goes. So many pressures. It wasn’t always this bad. My childhood was much more carefree. We were out until dark riding bikes and playing with other kids. Neighbors looked out for each other. If we ever did something wrong and an adult scolded us, to be sure, we would dread facing our own parents and their punishment. We were lucky to have had a taste of freedom and safety. Our children, hopefully, don’t know what they’ve missed but we worry about our grandchildren. We hope they’ll have wonderful memories of a safe childhood but America has lost her innocence. I’d gladly give to them a village life if I could. It is yet another paradise lost. I’m thankful that snapshots still exist and that I’ve been able to see them here on St. Martin.
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