The Very First Goat

Just when I think I know something, my son Henry asks me a question and I find myself fumbling for an answer. This morning's question made me smile because of its depth and also its innocence.

"Mommy, what was the very first animal?"

Well, since I'm not sure what the first animal was, I'm silent for a minute.

"I mean, when I look at a goat, I know another goat gave birth to it, and another one gave birth to that one, and another one gave birth to THAT one. But what was the very first animal? How was it made?"

I tell him that all life started as cells, and some cells got together and made a lump of cells, and from that they made another lump, and eventually that lump was more like a creature, and its pretty likely this creature lived in the water.

"But what was the very first animal?"

Then I try to explain how a lump of cells changes into a fish or a turtle or a mosquito, but since we're on the phone for this conversation and I'm at work, I cannot get too deeply into evolution. 

Soon, Henry has lost interest and I'm back to work, but his question stays with me. He's a quick one. He's been asking all sorts of intriguing (and impossible!) questions lately. He asks about spirituality, and we talk about things he's heard at school. My favorite was at around this time last year,  when he still rode the school bus. Over dinner, Henry informed me that angels had visited the German Shepherds in a field. Then he wanted to act out the story. I got to be the German Shepherd. You know, the dog. That was priceless.

I love that my son is curious, and I hope I'm able to foster his curiosity, to encourage his questions for a lifetime. After all, I'm 37 years old and I have questions every day. Mostly, I hope he is always seeking. There are too many people on this earth who think they have all the answers, and they have stopped seeking, stopped questioning. They send me email filled with messages that offend me and are wholly untrue. They shout at the top of their lungs about their version of the facts, dismissing the possibility that there may be another side to the issue.

They make my head hurt.

So I'm delighted when Henry asks me questions, and when he questions what he's heard. We could all use a little more questioning, a little less certainty, if you get my meaning. We could use a little more wondering about the very first goat.