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“Popsicles, popsicles. Come and get your popsicles!” The little boy beckoned customers to the playground’s blue imaginary ice cream stand. Another boy asked, “What flavors do you have?”
“Oh, we’ve got lots. Cherry, orange, grape, watermelon.”
“I’ll take grape,” decided the boy playing the customer. Then the two – now friends – ran to the firefighter’s hose that they could hold together to battle an imaginary fire. After this act of heroism, they moved on to the outdoor xylophone and metal drums, where they could satisfy every urge within their young bodies to make a lot of noise.
I never fully understood the importance of playgrounds until I had children and was constantly looking for ways to entertain them. Neighborhood playgrounds are sanctuaries for children and oases of respite for tired parents – especially if they have comfortable benches. I loved to sit and watch my children explore a new playscape. I marveled at where their imaginations took them and what new friends they met along the way. Children are so much more social than adults. My kids were both shy, but they’d still make friends on the playground, roped into a game of pirate ship or an imaginary popsicle stand, run by a boy who two seconds ago was a stranger.
There is no reason adults can’t join in this creative fun. But as we grow, so do our inhibitions. Yet I believe God wants all God’s children – adults included – to run wild and free and without purpose, to play and share popsicles as if we were already enjoying the kingdom of heaven.
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