"Who is the leader?"

"Fidel Castro."

(This conversation is all going on as they are putting together a kite out on
the porch. I was eavesdropping.)

Brendan went on, "And a lot of people in Cuba try to come here, but their leader
wants to stop them from leaving."

"Why do they want to come here?"

If you know any 6-year-olds, you will know that these questions will never end.

"Well, they can be free here. They can do whatever they want to do, and stuff
like that."

"They can be free here!" Cashel said happily, his mind working it all out.

But then a cloud of worry darkened his brow. He still couldn't quite get his mind around it. "But why won't the leader let them go?"

"Well, because he's a bad man. He's a dictator."

Cashel is extremely sensitive. Sensitive to "bad"-ness, to "villains" in movies. He doesn't think bad-ness is funny, or exciting. He really tries to be a good little boy, and he is afraid of bad-ness.

I could HEAR the seriousness of the silence that followed. Cashel thought about
this "bad man" and asked, "What's a dictator?"

Brendan was getting into deeper and deeper waters. I loved listening to this
conversation.

Brendan said, "A dictator is the leader of a country, but he's usually mean, and won't let the people do what they want to do. He's like a Darth Vader."

Now there's a reference Cashel could latch onto. He can understand that!

I couldn't resist chiming in, and called out the screen window, "Also - Cash, you know how we have elections here? We go to the voting booths and we vote for the President?"

Cashel, seriously, "Yes."

"Well, a dictator doesn't do that. He stays in office for his whole life. Even if everybody hates him."

Cashel thought about this. I could tell he was very worried. A world of bad-ness opened up to him. Like I said, he's very empathetic. A smart kid. Sensitive.

Then he said, making a guess, "So, Auntie Sheila - a dictator is like a bad
president."

"Yes, sweetheart. A dictator is like a president, but he's bad."

This was the end of the conversation because, suddenly, Cashel felt compelled torace into the living room making exploding-laser-beam-gun noises and then forcibly ricochet himself off all of the couches, and so the economic embargo discussion was forgotten, but I knew that Cashel would remember. In some part of his brain. He's that type of kid. He won't forget that a dictator is a "bad president".

I won't either.

As ever, Val, I am honored to be a part of your Blog Cuba project. This is just a small personal story, but I wanted to share it, because of my affection for all of the characters in it, of course, but also because, sometimes it is good to talk very simply about things, to boil things down, speak plainly. Talking to a 6 year old about what's going on in the world is a great way to do such a thing.

God bless, Val, and God bless the people of Cuba.