Member-only story
Hopscotch
When a child’s game is more than just a game
“Did you buy Ella an hourglass?” I asked. I didn’t think a breakable glass object was a good toy for a nine-year-old.
“She has an hourglass?” My wife shrugged. “Not my doing. Maybe she traded one of her dozen pandas for it.”
I padded upstairs and knocked on Ella’s door. “Enter,” she said. She was fiddling with a foot-tall hourglass enclosed in a wooden, three-column frame engraved with wild animals. Luminescent turquoise sand flowed from one bulb to the other.
“Are you timing something?” I asked.
Ella studied the hourglass. “Nope. I mean, yup. I’m watching the sand, Daddy.” She held the hourglass to her ear. “It sounds like a wind chime.”
“How’s it going?”
She pursed her lips. “It’s almost time.” She ran her fingertips along the side of the glass. “Maybe another few minutes.”
“Where did you get the hourglass?”
“Magda gave it to me.”
“Who’s Magda?” I thought I knew all of Ella’s friends.
“She’s my hopscotch friend.”
I sat next to Ella on her bed. “Is Magda a new neighbor or a kid in your class?”
