An Inquisitive Mind

     I'm sitting Indian-style on the couch, Coffee in one hand, trying to get some school work done before everyone's up and making noise.
     John is sitting across from me in dad's comfy arm chair, wrapped up in a big blue afghan, jabbering about - I don't know what! Asking me questions I'm only half listening to,
     "Sometimes I wonder, why do flies buzz?"
     "Butterflies? They don't buzz." I look at him puzzled.
     "No, flies. Why do flies buzz."
     "Oh, you know, I don't really know the answer to that." I admit, not knowing fully enough myself why to explain it to him.

     "Hmm." He seems lost in thought. Ruthie comes and snuggles under his warm afghan with him and they jabber and laugh, flies forgotten, but I'm left thinking.

     I'm not really a particularly inquisitive person, too often if I don't know something, I just leave it. I always wanted to be just like the adults I knew, especially mom, she knew everything about everything. She could answer any question I asked her. I wanted to know everything when I grew up, just like she did.
     Of course I've grown up enough to realize that she doesn't have the answers to all of my questions or the questions of the universe, no one really does, but I still think she's a smart person and I admire her knowledge. Not knowing the exact answer to John's question made me ponder on how if we want to learn, we have to have an open mind, be willing to ask questions, willing to admit that we don't 'know it all', willing to take in the information.
     I wonder how much we would learn if we never grew out of asking the million and one questions that children ask about the way the world works and the matters in the world that effect us and people and life. If we could somehow always remember that we will never know enough, and keep that hunger for learning alive, how much could we learn?