by Gwendolyn M Plano
Last night I watched the Republican debate on CNN. It was hard for me to listen to the judgements and the claims, so midway I decided to fold clothes, do the dishes and otherwise clean the house while one person after another spoke. As I did so, I found myself thinking about a conversation I had had with my grandson the week before.
The Knights of Columbus, a fraternal service organization within the Catholic Church, was having a fundraiser for disabled children. My 6- and 3-year old grandsons were visiting when my husband left to assist with the effort. Both begged to go and ran to the window to watch as Larry drove away. Then they turned and asked, “What does disabled mean, Grandma?”
I explained that disabled means that the child might not be able to run or move his arms freely or speak clearly.
“Disabled children may be a little different from you. Maybe they must use a wheelchair, or maybe…” The three year old interrupted, “maybe he is green.”
I nodded and went on, thinking I had not understood what he said. But he interrupted again—this time more insistently, “Grandma, maybe he is green!”
Looking into his big eyes, I responded “Yes of course, maybe he is green.”
With that he ran off to play, returning a few minutes later with some coins he had found on the floor. Holding out his clinched fist, he proudly announced, “This is for the children, Grandma.” I smiled and asked, “For the green one?” “Oh yes” he said, “for the green one.”
I’m not sure what lies ahead for us as a nation or for us as a global community, but I suspect that unless we…become like little children, we will never enter the kingdom of heaven. And, isn’t that our goal -- individually and collectively?
Oh to become like a child, to see life as they do....
The Knights of Columbus, a fraternal service organization within the Catholic Church, was having a fundraiser for disabled children. My 6- and 3-year old grandsons were visiting when my husband left to assist with the effort. Both begged to go and ran to the window to watch as Larry drove away. Then they turned and asked, “What does disabled mean, Grandma?”
I explained that disabled means that the child might not be able to run or move his arms freely or speak clearly.
“Disabled children may be a little different from you. Maybe they must use a wheelchair, or maybe…” The three year old interrupted, “maybe he is green.”
I nodded and went on, thinking I had not understood what he said. But he interrupted again—this time more insistently, “Grandma, maybe he is green!”
Looking into his big eyes, I responded “Yes of course, maybe he is green.”
With that he ran off to play, returning a few minutes later with some coins he had found on the floor. Holding out his clinched fist, he proudly announced, “This is for the children, Grandma.” I smiled and asked, “For the green one?” “Oh yes” he said, “for the green one.”
I’m not sure what lies ahead for us as a nation or for us as a global community, but I suspect that unless we…become like little children, we will never enter the kingdom of heaven. And, isn’t that our goal -- individually and collectively?
Oh to become like a child, to see life as they do....
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