Last night, something simple but profound happened that reminded me of the purity and honesty of childhood. My son came to me with excitement in his eyes, telling me that a classmate of his looked just like him. He was eager to share the news that they would be celebrating Twins Day at school together. According to him, they had the same eye color, the same hair color, and they were going to be identical twins for the day. His confidence and joy were so contagious that I couldn’t help but smile and join in his excitement.
As I tucked him into bed that evening, I had a thought. I wanted his « twins » experience to be perfect, so I rushed out at 9 p.m. to buy two identical outfits—one for my son and one for his friend. I wanted to make sure they truly looked the part. After all, what’s a Twins Day without matching clothes, right? I imagined the smiles on their faces when they saw themselves dressed alike, proud to share the moment.
The next morning, his teacher sent me a photo. When I looked at it, my heart melted. It was a picture of the two boys standing side by side. I immediately noticed that, while they were both adorable, they looked nothing alike. My son’s classmate had darker hair, a different complexion, and a completely different expression. Yet, in that photo, they were grinning proudly, each wearing their matching outfit, each convinced that they were truly twins.
What struck me the most wasn’t the difference in their appearance—it was the innocence and sincerity in my son’s eyes when he looked at his friend. To him, they were identical. The outward features didn’t matter. They shared something much more important—an experience, a friendship, and a sense of unity that only children can truly understand. They were united in a way that transcended physical differences.
In a world where we often focus on the things that make us different, it’s refreshing to see that, for children, differences are simply not a barrier. They don’t need to look the same to feel connected. My son and his friend didn’t see a world of separation; they saw a world of similarity, kindness, and shared joy. If we could all see the world through the eyes of a five-year-old, I believe it would be a much better place. We’d focus on what connects us instead of what sets us apart.
How wonderful would it be if we could all embrace the simplicity and unity that children instinctively feel? Perhaps there’s something we can learn from their ability to look past appearances and see only the things that truly matter: love, friendship, and the beauty of shared experiences.
