The Knife

A toddler stands with her mother in the kitchen

Watching as she takes a knife and chops onions

Deft hands, quick movements, up and down

“I want to chop onions too Mamma, let me do it!”

“No sweetheart, knives are dangerous, you’ll cut yourself.”

“But you don’t cut yourself Mamma, let me do it!”

“No!”

Tears and tantrums

Still, the mother doesn’t relent

Years pass

The child watches her mother

Wanting the knife

Picks up scissors at school, cuts paper

Takes a butter knife at the dinner table,

cuts through soft food

Years pass

Still watching, still asking

The child is now a teenager

Hands older, not yet steady

Takes a knife, cuts an apple

The knife slips and cuts a finger

In tears, the teenager turns to her mother

Who takes her hands,

wraps the wound and soothes

Then, without effort,

cuts the apple

The teenager watches her movements

and learns

The child grows

Her hands, slow at first, then sure,

know what to do

The movement begins to feel natural

The child smiles

Years pass

The child is now an adult

Standing in her own kitchen chopping onions

Deft hands, quick movements, up and down

Movements made easy by years of experience

Sharp instruments made safe by skilled hands