Munira Premji

When I was a little girl growing up in Moshi, Tanzania, one of the things I looked forward to most was when the circus came to town. The anticipation was almost as exciting as the circus itself.

For days, there was this feeling that something magical was coming. And then finally, we would be there – watching the acrobats, the clowns, the daring acts, elephants (!), completely caught up in the spectacle of it all. It remains one of the happiest memories of my childhood.

So when I became a Nima, I had a little wish tucked away in my heart: I wanted to be the first to take my grandchildren to the circus.

Two years ago, we took Amaal to her first circus. And today, it was Mos and Robi’s turn.

Nagib and I took them to the Royal Canadian Circus – and from the moment we arrived, I could feel that familiar excitement all over again.

There were trapeze artists flying through the air. Gymnasts doing things the human body surely wasn’t designed to do. Motorcycles roaring around inside a steel globe. Clowns. A ringmaster. Music. Lights. Popcorn.

And two little boys watching it all with wide eyes. But somewhere in the middle of it, I realized I wasn’t only watching them experience the circus. I was experiencing it again too.

Because children have this extraordinary ability to simply be amazed. They don’t analyze everything. They don’t need to understand how the trick works.
They don’t critique the performance. They just look up. And wonder.

Somewhere along the way, we grown-ups can lose some of that. We become very good at evaluating, comparing, questioning and judging. Maybe every once in a while, we need to suspend all of that and simply allow ourselves to be delighted.

To gasp. To laugh. To look up. To believe, for a moment, in magic.

Perhaps that’s one of the great gifts of grandchildren. We think we’re showing them the world. And then, without even knowing it, they show us how to see the world again.

Today, sitting beside Mos and Robi, I wasn’t just their Nima taking them to the circus. For a little while, I was that little girl in Moshi again. And the circus had come to town.