look, listen, question

Look.

Listen.

Question.

Little Salt looks at the world with a looking heart.

He listens to the world with a listening heart.

That’s how I first learned of him.

“There's a boy who looks and listens with his heart," came word over the water. 

“Maybe he is the one who can see us.

Maybe he is the one who can hear us.

“Maybe he is the one,” sang the whales.

“When he was a little boy, he drew a picture of a bowhead whale,” sang the bowhead whale. 

“A bowhead whale's blubber is over two feet thick, so it can withstand the Arctic cold,” wrote Little Salt under that picture, “And it can create it's own breathing hole by breaking through ice up to one foot thick.”

“He drew a picture of a blue whale,” sang the blue whale.

“A blue whale's heart is as big as a Volkswagon Beetle,” wrote Little Salt under that picture, “But it's ears are the size of the point of a pencil." 

“He drew a picture of a sperm whale,” sang the sperm whale.

“For many years, oil from a sperm whale's head was used to provide light for people,” wrote Little Salt under that picture, “And people measure the strength of light in lumens, which is the light of one spermaceti oil candle." 

“He’s ten years old and he can’t speak,” sang the three whales. 

“He hasn't spoken a single word in his whole life. 

He whistles.

We can understand his song.

He can understand our song.

We are looking for him.

We are listening for him.

People ask his abuelo and mamí, ‘What's wrong with him?’ 

And his abuelo and mamí simply sigh the sighs of people who carry heavy loads on their backs and in their hearts and answer, ‘Dios sabe, God knows.’

We know, too. 

We want to tell you so you will know. 

That's life, right? 

To know and to be known. 

See.

Hear.

Know.”