How do I explain this?

Here I am on my last night in camp and I've been agonizing over what to write about all week. I really don't want my blog to become a chore and on the other hand, I don't want it to go by the wayside either.  I get some real enjoyment from writing it.  So it just kind of hit me a little bit ago what to write about.  It would have been far more appropriate at the time that it happened which was Remembrance Day.

For several days leading up to Remembrance Day, my four year old son had been asking about 'the war.' He'd been learning a bit about what Remembrance Day was about in Kindergarten. It was a bit of a lesson for me to see what he retained from what I would figure they had been saying at school.  As far as he was concerned, there had only been one war and that's all.  He was wondering what the war was like. Where the war was held. One thing he seemed to have a grasp on was that people died.  Seemingly a lot of people.  It was bedtime the night before I was leaving for work and two days before Remembrance Day. Stories had been read, songs had been sung and it was time for good nights, I love yous and I'll see you in a week.  But that's when the real questions started.  Holy. How do I explain this?

As a child I was lucky enough to have parents that entertained my endless questions of why?  How come? How does this work? I have very fond memories of weekend drives with my dad heading to a sporting event or the hardware store and becoming fully engrossed in major learning moments of how things work. I think we were on the entrance ramp to the freeway just before going onto the Port Mann Bridge when we started the discussion of how an internal combustion engine works. Fishing in the little green row boat taking my first lesson in molecular physics.  I'm not trying to say my dad was some nuclear physicist but to a little kid, he was the all knowing. The answerer of questions. My mom was the teacher of things school.  I don't think I went to my mom with the same questions I did my dad. She was who I called when I needed something proof read. Or needed help with something embarrassing. Or bleeding profusely.  That's probably another blog entry though.

Now the pressure is coming on to me. I seem to be moving into the position of the answerer of questions.  If I was smart...I'd say, "ask your mother" or "call grandpa." But without wanting my sister to fill the comment box after this blog...I'm not that smart. I jump in with both feet and do my best to answer the questions that come from 4 to 6 year olds. I feel that I tend to do okay. They seem to walk away satisfied on most counts that their question has been answered.  The surface has only been scratched but I hope they'll continue to think and wonder and come back with another thoughtful question at a later date. So when I started to get grilled at bedtime about 'the war,' I realized that it had the potential to be a really big question.  And it was bedtime! But I was leaving for work for a week the very next morning. I couldn't even put it off until tomorrow. I tried to explain what a war is. I explained that there is still wars being fought all over the world. The concept of the world is so vague to a four year old. Their concept of the world is so small. It was enough of a challenge to explain that even though there is wars still going on, that's he's safe. There isn't a war happening anywhere near us. That was my opportunity to explain why we have Remembrance Day. That we remember all the brave men and women that fought so hard give us the safety of not having a war in our neighbourhood.  Now that he was understanding that people were trying to shoot and kill each other with guns, Remembrance Day seemed like such a small question...he was trying to digest how adults were allowed to shoot at each other...let alone kill each other!  It's bad to even hit someone else! This is where I'm still at a loss. Kids are no strangers to dealing with things with a fist or a foot if talks break down.  I've even seen trucks and sticks fly when it get's really heated. They all know by this age though that they're not supposed to hit each other.  And now I'm telling him about adults, governments, entire countries of people trying to kill each other. I couldn't explain why. I still can't. Honestly it's been a real eye opener for me. If the world was run by a four year old would it lead to war? I can't think so. When is civilization going to grow up?

I've already learned that children can drive a parent crazy with unending questions. They can be so inquisitive and so innocent. They can also be so cunning and devious at the same time. I hope my children will continue to ask me questions. I hope I can always offer an answer of some kind. I'm not naive enough to think that I will have all the answers to all the questions but I look forward to finding the answers with them and encouraging them to ask more questions. Most of all, I look forward to learning from their questions. Now can anyone answer the question? Why do people try to kill each other just because they don't agree and don't want to get along?