Linus, My Son

I don’t have a son, but if I did, I’d name him Linus.

Not after a saint or a family member or a trendy character from a streaming series, but after Linus van Pelt from Charles Schulz’s Peanuts.

Linus is, to me (and I’m sure to many others), one of the most quietly remarkable characters in the comic strip universe. He’s thoughtful without being smug, gentle without being weak, deeply philosophical while still believing in the Great Pumpkin. He clutches his security blanket and quotes deep thinkers in the same breath — a little boy of contradictions, complexity, and curiosity. He’s the kind of kid who seems to know a lot more than he lets on, but never uses it to lord over others (except maybe Lucy, but she always has it coming).

If I had a son named Linus, I’d hope he’d carry some of that same spirit. A sense of wonder about the world, an ability to comfort others while knowing how to comfort himself, a willingness to believe in things that can’t be proven. I’d want him to be someone who can stand alone if he needs to, sit quietly if that’s what’s called for, and speak up — like his namesake did in the Christmas special — when the moment demands it. And hopefully he’d be the kind of person who sees the world as a little broken but still worth loving anyway.

I don’t have a son, but if I ever do — Linus. No question.