Laughter in children is so fascinating to observe. The first time I heard our child laugh was when I had her in the front pack. I was just starting supper and, as always, I started with an onion. Peeling, cutting in half and then chopping. It was the chopping that made her laugh. So I chopped faster and she laughed harder. Folks, this is when she still had a head wobble like those little bobbing heads people put in their cars. What a curious act to elicit laughter!

This Christmas she was exposed to various people for longer periods of time. I noticed her noticing other laughter. I also noticed her experimenting with her own. It makes me wonder what her laugh will truly be like when it has fully developed. I also wonder what will strike her as deeply humorous and bring up belly laughter. This makes me look at my own life, the people around me and the laughter around me (or lack thereof).

Today I spent time with friends who have children. Both are dealing with harsh life realities. Later this evening I was baking cookies (apple cider snaps, and ginger cutouts, actually). And I wondered where their laughter comes from these days. I wish I had considered that question before our conversation veered towards an unhelpful direction and we found ourselves debating what was and was not ok to call people. Are there some people who are just “bad” people? Do you really think that everyone has worth? Even sex offenders? Even murderers? Even sociopaths? Sigh. How did our society get to the point where new friends have a hard time finding common ground – even when there are so many key points they hold dear when it comes to raising a child? And how can we find ways to laugh together rather than debate?

Looking at the average person I wonder how many people have really, truly laughed in this past year? I’m talkin’, gut splitting, pants peeing, free laughter with no care in the world and only trust for the person and/or people surrounding them. Do we know how to do that in our society? In our world of staged photos and contrived videos, is real laughter a thing anymore? Is it just me who doesn’t feel like I have it in me anymore?

I grew up with a friend who knew how to make me laugh so hard. When we were working she made me laugh. When we were in the middle of a serious conversation she could find humor, when she was dealing with the hard things middle schoolers and high schoolers face, she could still make me laugh. In college I lived with three other women who named truths with reckless abandon. They weren’t naming harsh truths. They were naming curiosities that people might think to themselves, but never say. Or they’d name funny (not in a mean way) isms in people they observed. We laughed together and it was safe laughter. Laughter that delighted in others, in observations, in truths, etc.

For some reason, I haven’t had a lot of this kind of laughter for years. And I don’t see it often in the people around me. Don’t get me wrong. I see people smile and laugh. I see people who are happy most of the time and laugh at small things and I believe there’s joy there… most of the time, but rarely is there a let loose kind of laugh. I’ve thought many times that if people could get past their anger and cry together, then we’d be getting somewhere, but tonight my thoughts enter a different realm. While I sit writing thoughts on laughter – especially in regards to watching our daughter grow and experiment with her own laugh, I wonder if we’d sometimes get further by bypassing the sadness and anger. What about simply finding the funny bone in another person and learning to laugh with them?

Rich Mullins’ song, We are not as strong as we think we are, ” comes to mind here. “And if you make me laugh well I know I could make you like me cause when I laugh I can be a lot of fun. But when we can’t do that well I know that it is frightening…” 

Assuming that our little group of new mothers will gather again, instead of trying to navigate troubling philosophy or differing social analysis I will try a different approach. I will ask questions about laughter and joy. I’m glad we could have a frank conversation, but I also want to open up the lighter side and allow some sunshine into moments like ours this morning.

I yearn for our daughter to find friends and mentors she can speak with in depth. I want her to share about her fears, her faith, the demons she faces, her shortcomings and relational struggles. I want her to ask questions about God and humanity and her calling in all the mess of life, but I also want her to laugh. And I want it to be real laughter. And maybe, child, maybe you and your friends will find ways to teach us older folks how to laugh again – even if it’s laughing at onions being chopped. Perhaps those onions are meant to bring on tears of laughter.