Imagination in a little girl

 

 

The other day when I was watching my granddaughters, I found myself up stairs and getting ready to watch a movie while we lay in Mommy’s bed. Both the girls were sick and asked me if I wanted to take a nap. It would be okay with them if I wanted. 

 

Sunshine found the TV controls, and zip-zang, she showed me how to do all the remote control stuff that previously eluded me. With “Horton Hears a Who” starting, the girls lay down, telling me I could have the middle between them. They had taken all the pillows, and the middle was perhaps eight inches wide. 

This isn’t going to work, I told them. I need more room than that. So I manually scooted them over, grabbed a pillow from the end of the bed, and climbed over them. The moment I extended my arms, they both rolled  to nestle into me. ‘Ahhhhh’. 

Sunshine is somewhat like a puppy, which has to turn in circles a few times before finding the right spot. This time she was lying on her stomach, with her head at my knees and her feet at my head. “Draw pictures on my back, Grandma. I want a unicorn, a rainbow, a flower…” Before I drew the rainbow, Sunshine was sound asleep.

Bright Eyes placed her head on my chest. “I can hear your heart beating, Grandma,” she whispered. I wiggled my fingers into her mass of brown hair, and lifted the strands up to let the heat escape. She sighed, and blinked, then was asleep.

That left me with Horton. Before we had settled in for the movie,Sunshine had found one of Daddy’s clean socks and placed it over my eyes just so. "Here, Grandma.  This will help your headache."   I could look down my nose and at the TV, if I wanted. 

When Mommy/my daughter came home, she found us three just like that. “Oh, my, that is precious.” I agreed with her.

Life can’t get much better than that.

This was a re-post of a great day in 2011, way back when.... Sunshine is now 19 yrs old, and Bright Eyes is 21.

 

 

Sunshine: Theology as seen by a four year-old

Sunshine:  Theology 101 according to a four year-old.

After I pick up Sunshine from Gateway Christian Preschool, we always have lunch together.

Having lunch with Sunshine is always an interesting event, even if it involves copious amounts of pbj, milk, and applesauce.  All it takes is a simple question, and her vast wealth of knowledge and opinions come flooding out like gold coins from Scrooge McDuck’s vault.

All I have to ask, “What did you learn at school today?”

Just before Easter, Sunshine’s eyes brightened at that question, and without missing a bite of pbj, or a drop of the jam from the oozy edges, Sunshine told me.  “I learned all about Jesus.  And, Grandma, did you know…”  

She paused for a swig of 2% milk, and to allow me to mop off her face.  “Did you know that Jesus gotted nailed to a cross?  That’s a thing that has two pieces of wood that make a small ‘t’.  The bad Romans (Where did she hear about them, I wondered.) took big nails, Grandma, really big nails.”  She spread her hands about a foot apart.  “And then they hammered them through Jesus’ hands, really hard.  Right through Jesus’ hands.”

Her wide blue eyes made contact with my green eyes, to make sure I understood what she said.  Oh, I understood.  I could feel His bones breaking, and the blood dripping onto the wood.  My green eyes became misty with tears.

With casual care, Sunshine licked off the strawberry jam that she had squeezed out from the bread, on purpose.  She likes to do that, and I don’t blame her; so do I.

“Then they stood the cross up like this,” Sunshine demonstrated with her yellow IKEA plastic spoon, “and dropped it in a hole like this.”  She brought down the spoon hard into the bowl of applesauce.  “That woulda really hurted, you know.”

Again her eyes looked deeply into mine, checking for understanding just like any good teacher would.  Oh, I understood how the cross would have hit the ground with a vibrating thud, and how this would have shook Christ’s body with waves of pain.  My eyes blinked at hers several times.

She told me the whole story, event by event, while I remained very still, listening and watching as my almost 5 year old granddaughter explained salvation to me.  “Miss Kenny gived us each a paper cross we color on, and I decided to color my cross like a sunset.”  I looked confused, I suppose, for now she patiently explained her ideas as if I were only 4 years old.  

“You see, Grandma, the red is for the Blood of Jesus, which He gave away so we can see Him in Heaven.  Then the orange is for the sunset when Jesus died.”  Another bite of pbj, and the last swallow of milk.  

“Can I have some more milk, Grandma?”  Without missing a beat while I automatically poured the milk into her pink IKEA cup, Sunshine lowered her voice to a whisper.  “Then I used yellow.  You know why I used yellow?” 

I shook my head, for at this point I didn’t want to or couldn’t talk.  “Well, the yellow is for sunrise, when Jesus got up out of His grave.  That meaned that He wasn’t dead anymore, that He was alive!”  She slammed her hand on the table.  “There!  See!  Jesus is alive!”

With the last bite of pbj, and the last swipe of the spoon around the bowl of applesauce, Sunshine finished up.  “Then I colored around the cross in blue, ‘cause Jesus went up to Heaven, and He’s waiting there for all of us.”  She gazed into my eyes and asked, “Grandma, why are you crying?  This is good news, not bad.  Jesus is alive!”

I pulled her into my lap and wrapped my arms around her.  Sunshine wiped her gooey face into my tee-shirt, and filled me with her warmth.  Yes, He’s alive, Sunshine.

Susan Kane

April 27, 2011

This is a re-post from six years ago.  I had forgotten about until I checked comments in Hold for Moderation section.  Sunshine is now eleven, my height, with the amazing blue eyes.  And she still knows what Jesus did for us.