The Exchange

One day, I finally decided to venture out of my routine, which consisted of waking up, doing personal hygiene, spending devotional time with the Lord, and getting ready for the day, all while hurrying out the door with a protein shake in hand with an unnerving sense of dread and despair that, maybe today will be the day something genuinely disastrous happens - like losing my job or again getting into another car accident that, unironically, wasn't my fault but being blamed or accepting more blame than necessary to carry on my day. But today was unusually unique. Instead, I decided to bask in the glorious sunny Wednesday that was my day off and enjoy and be present in the park, residing just a couple blocks down. It was a calm and mild seventy-five degrees outside, prompting me to stroll down the block heading toward the park.

"Ahh," I released a great sigh of relief as my back leaned against the woody park bench with a slouched posture, raised arms, interlocked fingers, and resting head, "this couldn't get any better: no work, no impending doom and gloom overhead, just serenity in a park!"

After enjoying slouching on this park bench, something caught my attention as I droopily opened my eyes. A whiff of evergreen seized my nostrils as the woody fragrance prompted me to discover where it was coming from. Standing tall and proud, this huge sequoia tree lay in this beautiful park. Still, unlike the park, the sequoia tree was as if it was in an area of its own. Separated not by fences but by water, it was surrounded by enclosed flower beds of beautifully displayed orange tulips that separated from the floating white lotuses. I couldn't believe my eyes as they surveyed this magnificent scenery.

As I drew nearer, the stature of the sequoia seemed to grow before my very eyes, like being awestruck by a house that looked small in size. Still, once you enter, it's as if the walls have expanded and the ruff enlarged by dimensional transcendentalism.

As I approached the sequoia tree by the marble path, this small child was peeking around the tree; "How did he get over there," I stammered. As I spoke, he pointed toward a hidden path behind the tree. "Hey, buddy! May I come to sit with you?" I asked. The kid paused for a minute and eventually shook his head up and down. As I walked on the hidden path, I wondered why there was a lonesome kid all by himself? Where are his parents? Does he come to this tree often? I gave the kid some distance as I approached and nervously said, "Hey buddy, my name is Dailyn; can I ask for your name?" He seemed reluctant and perplexed simultaneously and then followed, "My name is Dailyn too." Dailyn? I thought, how is there another Dailyn here? Then it struck me, the frizzy mini afro, the mismatched outfit, the innocent brown baby face, the timid temperament, and the love of nature: I found the child version of me.

"Hey, Dailyn, do you have any parents?"I asked, "No," he stammered. Immediately, my heart sank because, beyond not having parents, I knew intrinsically that what he yearned for the most was unconditional love and understanding. I related to this feeling. I timidly asked, "Hey bud, how would you feel if you stayed with me for the time being?" Not knowing how to be a parent frightened me; I remember how I was raised. That was not an environment of complete safety, unconditional love, and understanding, and I don't want to repeat those same sentiments. "I know that is a tall ask, but I am willing to do whatever it takes to make you feel loved, valued, and welcomed over here." I could tell the gears were turning in Dailyn's head; I'm sure he wondered why should he trust a stranger? That's a crazy thing to do, and Dailyn knew he wasn't crazy. But what did he have left? He was orphaned, left to fend for himself, without family, friends, or connections. Anything could be better than being by his lonesome next to a sequoia tree, right? It took some time before he answered, but he asked, "If I stay with you, would that make you my Dad?" "If that makes you more comfortable, then yeah, I guess I would be," I chuckled. Then, what he said next brought so much serenity and tenderness to my heart. "Dad, can we get some ice cream?"

"Absolutely," I exclaimed.

Scene.