Little children have many lessons for adults who are willing to listen.

As many of you know, I care for 2-year-olds at a child care center. I’m also a grandmother. Writing is something I do in my “spare time,” mostly after the housework and errands are done and after I’ve spent time with my four daughters and their families. I call myself a weekend writer because Saturdays and Sundays seem to be the days I manage to squeeze in a few hours at the computer.

This month I was planning to write about something else entirely, but upon awakening this morning, these are the thoughts that entered my head, willing themselves to become a column.

This past Thursday morning, I took the “older toddlers” out to the play yard and took the riding toys, sand pails, and balls out of the storage shed, much as I always do.

It was a beautiful day, with the first whispers of autumn in the air. One little girl wasn’t content with the usual array of toys and began to fuss, as people of all ages will do from time to time. I took her by the hand and walked with her, pointing out the stunning amount of acorns on the ground. She became entranced and was soon filling the pockets of her pink jacket. I retrieved a cylindrical container from the sandbox to hold more, but soon that was full as well.

Others quickly join in

My small friend didn’t stop there. She incorporated a plastic pail for her collection and happily went about on her own while I sat on the mossy ground under the oak tree. Her happy squeals caught the attention of her buddies, who came to see what she was making such a fuss about. Two-year-olds are generally very helpful little folks and always want to be part of whatever is going on.

True to form, soon there were eight toddlers gathering acorns and bringing them to me, unceremoniously dumping their buckets to make a plentiful pile. An extremely important conversation ensued where many questions were asked of me in typical toddler fashion.

“Why are these acorns so big?” “Why are these acorns so little?” “Why is this acorn squished?” “Where did the acorns come from?” “Will the squirrels eat all these acorns?” “Why is this acorn dirty?” “Why is this acorn green?” (One young man became very upset when the “hat” came off one of his acorns. He persisted in trying to convince me we needed some glue.)

We sorted the acorns; put them in muffin pans, “baked” acorn muffins, and “sautéed” them in a frying pan. We also made a lovely and nutritious acorn, leaf and grass salad. We discussed at length how much it would hurt if an acorn fell out of the tree, by accident of course, and bopped us on the head.

Until Thursday, I truly didn’t know there were so many things you could do with, and say about, an acorn; and I certainly didn’t know that this morning I would be sitting here at my computer telling you all about it.

Knitting inspiration, also

It happens sometimes though. The children often are my writing muses, and I know I’m not the only one affected by their innocent inspiration. My daughter Rachel who works with preschoolers, gets ideas for her knitting from the children. A color, a texture or the line of a garment speaks to her creative spirit and she’s soon designing, spinning wool and knitting until all hours.

Currently she’s busily making booties, then visiting the infant room to try her mini-creations on those sweet and tiny feet, checking the fit.

Another co-worker composes silly songs to delight not only the children, but also the rest of us. Still others are inspired in their photography, sewing, painting, videography and cooking. We are even inspired to eat healthier meals as we sit side by side with our charges at the low lunchtime tables.

Yes, we all have a lot to learn and there’s no telling where it might lead. In the meantime, the children coach us to be more like them; to keep it simple, keep it tender, keep it fun and keep asking questions, causing us to want to be our very best at everything we do.

Karen Carlton is a freelance writer living in West Bath, who is a regular contributor to this column. She can be reached by e-mail at [email protected].