When I think of the word translate, I think of interpreting languages into words I can understand. I think most people would agree that’s generally the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word “translate”.
Well this past year, I’ve learned to translate one of the most complex and beautiful languages I’ve ever been privileged enough to hear.
The language of my daughter, my infant and now toddler, daughter.
“The most beautiful thing about a young child’s language is that it’s often only translated through love rather than knowledge”.
A child’s words cannot be understood even by the foremost experts of all language. No; A child’s words are so unique, so precious, so beautiful, that only a loving parent can decipher those intricate meanings and sounds.
A parent has watched, listened, held, felt, comforted, fed, taught, learned from, and loved that child from the beginnings of their life. The sweet sounds, gurgles, and babbles made from our most cherished tiny humans are translated for our ears alone.
When walking through the kitchen and my daughter, brows raised, eyes wide, and voice loud, conveys with SUCH conviction, “BAAAA, MA , GAGA, BOULGLOUGLOUOU, AH, MAGAA!!”, I know she’s looking above the microwave, hoping to convince her hopeless mother to give her a piece of chocolate chip cookie.
I know this, because I know her. I know her ins and outs. I know the curves of her cheeks and eyes when she smiles. I know the sound of her cry. Her laugh. Her language is a secret one; one that she shares with me and my husband alone.
And to me, it’s the most beautiful sound in the world.
Never needing to be translated by anything but our love.