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The
Secret Spiritual World of Children
Tobin
Hart, Ph.D.
Children have a secret spiritual life. They have spiritual capacities
and experiences - profound moments that shape their lives in enduring
ways. These are sometimes stunning, often tender, and reveal a
remarkable spiritual world that has been kept largely secret.
My portal into this world popped open one evening at my daughter's
bedside.
It was a typical school-night; Haley, seven years old, was settling
in after a story at bedtime. As I was saying goodnight she noticed
the cover of a book in my hand which had a picture of a child
on it. She asked why I was reading a children's book and I
said that it was not a children's book but a book about children
- all the ways that they see and think about the world. “Oh,
you mean like seeing angels?” she said. As a psychologist
and university professor I was certain that this was not what
this developmental psychology book was about but I said, “Well,
yes, I guess it could be about things like that.” “I
see my angel,” she announced matter-of-factly. In that moment,
I supposed that for a child who always wanted to stay up later,
this had the desired effect; I slowed my exit and said, “Do
you see her now?” “Just a minute” she replied.
As she lay on her bed surrounded by her stuffed animals, I watched
her move her spine from side to side apparently trying to get
in the 'right spot.' Her eyes were now closed and she
started to take in deeper breaths in a rhythmic beat. My wife
and I had never spoken of angels, meditation, or the like in front
of her nor had she ever seen anyone do yoga or meditate that we
know of. While I was not sure what she was up to, it was clear
that she knew exactly what she was doing.
After four or five minutes of lying quietly and breathing deeply,
she calmly said, “OK, I can see her [the angel] now.”
I felt a lightness come over me. It's difficult to describe,
but it was a warmth, a tingling in my head, and a feeling of tenderness.
I was off-balance, not sure of what was happening, but I asked
the first question that came to mind: “What does your angel
look like?” She replied in a silky soothing voice, still
with her eyes closed, “She is wearing a blue gown, has a
golden crown and golden wings... She has dark hair like me...
she is older than I am; maybe twenty, she has a freckle by her
left eye. It's like she has makeup on – eye shadow and
glowy lipstick – but she doesn't, it's just her.
She has a small book with her.”
I still wasn't quite sure what was happening, but I asked
if I could speak with her angel. She paused and said, “My
angel wants to know why you want to talk with her.” I said,
“I just want to learn about your angel.” She again paused,
as if checking for the answer, and then said, “Okay.”
After a moment of silence, she said, “My angel knows your
angel; they're old friends.” A wave of feeling came over
me that's hard to describe; I felt my heart swell and tears
came to my eyes.
We covered quite a lot of ground in the next fifteen or so minutes.
At first, surprised by what was happening, I asked some trivial
questions: “What does your angel like to do?” These
were calmly and deftly dismissed, and turned into questions of
more substance by the way they were answered. Her responses had
a kind of deep universal wisdom to them. As these answers flowed
out effortlessly, I still saw my little girl lying there, but
now I had an overwhelming feeling of reverence for this being
on the bed.
I realized that I needed to sharpen my questions. I asked how
she and her angel communicated. She said, “It's kind
of like thoughts and pictures all together. Mostly I just know
what she wants to tell me.” I began to ask questions about
life, about advice the angel had for Haley, and, mostly as a test,
about any insight and advice she had for me. I was amazed when
the advice for me cut right to the heart of an issue that I had
been wrestling with, but that Haley knew nothing about. How did
she know what to say?
What was most significant about this whole scene was the quality
of her responses. This did not have the feel of a child's
fantasy. This little, perky seven-year-old spoke with a depth
and wisdom that seemed simply extraordinary and very much out
of character. The answers and comments from her angel were elegantly
simple – the kind that cuts right to the heart of the matter
– and deeply insightful, offering the kind of crystal clarity
and remarkable depth that I had not heard from my daughter before.
After about fifteen minutes, Haley started to wiggle restlessly
and it appeared that our conversation was nearing its end. I asked
another question: “What does your angel do for you?”
She said, “My angel reminds me that I am loved and helps
me to see things better.” “Clearer?” I asked. “Yeah,
and she helps me when I'm worried about things and helps me
to know things.” She described her angel as providing guidance,
comfort, love, and a larger view on issues or questions. Now it
was I who was reluctant for her to go to bed. I squeezed in one
final question. “Does your angel have anything else that
she would like to tell me?” She paused and then said, “Children
talk to their angels.” Our conversation ended as my daughter
shifted back into being a sleepy seven-year-old. I hugged and
kissed her goodnight, turned off her light and left her room dazed.
This moment took me into another world and it was the catayst
for a quest to understand this event and the hidden spiritual
life of children. While I had built my life and career around
spirituality, it was this moment that helped me see children in
a new light and led to years of research, and guidance of all
sorts.
Although conventional psychology, education and religion often
claim otherwise, children have all sorts of spiritual experiences,
not just meetings with angels. At eight-years-old, Denise asks
profound metaphysical questions (Who am I? What are we here for?)
and then answers them with astonishing wisdom. At three-years-old,
Dana describes a moment of unity and perfection that is indistinguishable
from accounts of saints and mystics. Jamie feels others’
feelings with astounding accuracy and intensity. After five-year-old
Adam fell from a three story window, landing unharmed on the hard
ground, he asked his parents, “Where are those guys?”
“What guys?” his father replied. Adam clarified, “Those
guys dressed in gold who caught me?”
Children have a wide range of spiritual capacities. We may even
think of these as spiritual styles or temperaments. Some children
(and adults) are primarily empaths like Jamie, others are natural
philosophers, like Denise (Why are we here?), others have access
to wisdom or are especially tuned to mystical moments of wonder,
like Dana, and others 'see the invisible' and recognize
the multidimensional realms that exist beyond the 3-D material
world. This is not a rare few or just recently born children,
this is most of our children, perhaps all.
 And
our children are in good company. Surprisingly, many of the sages
and saints throughout history describe their own spiritual awakening
in childhood. This is not a new phenomenon. Black Elk, the great
native American elder, had his most important visions at five
and nine. St. Catherine saw Jesus at five. Tielhard de Chardin
claimed his course was set at six years old. Ramakrishna saw the
divine as a boy.
The implications for parenting, education, and spiritual or religious
life are stunning. Children already are spiritual beings, have
the roots of character and morality, have access to wisdom, and
are old souls who, while they may be naïve in the ways of
the world, have access to profound depths of insight and knowing.
Once we make a space to look at children a little differently,
we may begin to see this spiritual center within them and even
within us.
These early ways of knowing and being are not forever lost with
the growth and trials of adolescence, but instead are touchstones
for our spiritual life as adults. Who are the spiritual children
that were us? What were the ways in which we saw into the heart
of the world? What were the big questions that we had and what
were those moments of wonder that we could not find words for
but that nonetheless shaped our world? And how were those ways
of knowing and being submerged in the face of society’s
demands? Reclaiming the natural core of our own spirituality can
provide the centerpoint for our spiritual journey as adults and
help us to recognize the innate wisdom and wonder within the children
in our lives.
One day on the ride to school, I asked my then nine-year-old daughter
if it was OK if I told other people about her angel. She said,
“Yes, I think you should.” I asked why she thought I
should. After a pause, she said, “I think you should tell
other people so that they can find each other and find their own
angel.”
Tobin
Hart, Ph.D., is the author of The Secret Spiritual Life
of Children (Inner Ocean, 2003), and is the co-founder
and Chair of the Board of Directors of the ChildSpirit Institute.
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Spiritual