Always Believe The Child

I can't get something off of my mind these past few days. That's how I know that I need to write it down and share it. It involves my 4 year old grandson Chandler. He spent the night with me a couple of nights ago. When Amber and Dale brought the boys to stay, Chandler was unusually quiet. Sometimes he gets that way when he is in one of his "moods", but this time was different. He stayed that way the whole evening, not talking much, not eating, not playing which was highly out of the ordinary for him. The only thing he complained of was a sore throat. He felt a little warm so after a dose of Tylenol, he was ready for bed. He didn't balk once about bedtime, again highly unusual for his always wide-open little self. He was asleep in no time. I said a prayer that he would feel better and went to bed early myself. Sometime in the middle of the night, he came and wanted to get in bed with me. He wanted to be right in my arms, so that is where he slept. Around dawn, as the sun was just peeking through the window, I looked at Chan and his eyes were wide open and he was staring at the window. It startled me a little that he was awake, he had been so still that I was sure he was asleep. He didn't feel feverish which was a relief. "Chan, what's wrong?" He didn't answer me and his gaze never left the window. Worried, I asked again, "Chandler, are you ok?" Still staring, he nodded his head. "Does your throat hurt?" No response. "What are you thinking about, buddy?" At this point a tiny smile came across his lips and he said, "I can't tell anybody." My stomach lurched and the red flags started popping up. Trying to keep my breath steady, I said, "You can tell Nanny anything, buddy. If you're worried about something it makes you feel better to tell adults who love you. We can help you." He was silent as he continued to stare at the window. I tried again. "What are you thinking about, Chan?" I wasn't prepared for his answer. Without blinking and in a soft whisper he replied, "God."

By now the sun was streaming brightly through the blinds. As his little body laid against me I asked, "What about God?" Still gazing at the sun, his sweet, innocent four year old voice said "He made all of us." We laid there for a while in silence, both of us staring at the beautiful rays. It was one of those moments where you knew that something supernatural was taking place. Now if you know me well, you are aware that I have done much soul-searching over the course of my life, always searching for answers about spirituality and religion, begging for something to make sense, longing to know the truth. While I so want to share my faith, one of the biggest fears in my life is that I will come across as overly religious because I have seen how that turns away people who are so desperately seeking hope. I have asked God many times to give me a "sign", to let me know somehow that everything will be ok and that He is in complete control of all of this. I have learned that the signs He gives can be so easily missed if I am not careful. In recent years I have come to understand faith and grace a little better and it brings me a peace that I cannot explain. I will never have all of the answers I seek but I do know something that is most important for me to believe. There is a God. And He made all of us. And if you don't believe me, just ask my sweet little four year old buddy :)

The Shortcut

I took a shortcut this morning. I had taken my husband his breakfast sandwich and I needed to mail a card so I ended up taking a shortcut down Bell Street. Haven't been down that street in years and don't really know what made me go that way today. Bell Street. My grandfather used to run a fish market/ grocery store on the corner there, years ago when I was a girl. As soon as I turned onto the street and was passing the corner where the store once stood, the memories began to flood my mind. The tears were unexpected. My heart lurched as I spotted the incline in the pavement where my siblings and I used to run up and down. We were so little. The memory was vivid. I literally almost had to pull over on the side of the road, my heart was beating so. Suddenly I remembered walking into the store, my Papa most often sitting at the old piano, playing a tune. The fish counter was on the right and I would always walk to it first and stare into the glassy eyes of the fish. It's funny to think of now, but I remember feeling sorry for them for some reason. I've never told anyone that. Strange what goes on in the mind of a child. I would then move to the magical candy counter with it's tempting array of any kind of candy you can imagine. BB Bats, Hot Balls, Mary Janes, Kits, you name it. I don't remember eating a lot of it though. We got a piece every now and then. I still love to see this kind if candy when I happen upon a "country store". Once in a while I will eat a Mary Jane just so that I can remember.

The best part of this memory is running up the stairs to where my grandmother was. My Nanny. To try to describe the feelings I have for my Nanny would be impossible. I didn't know anyone like her and have never met anyone like her since. I didn't know back then how special she was. All I knew was that I loved her. And that she loved me back. She was a quiet lady. And gentle. So gentle. I remember the way she used to wash my face. I can close my eyes and feel it. No matter how dirty my face was, she was always so gentle. I loved to spend the night with her, there above the store. Her bed was so high. I remember her helping me say my prayers and then she would be silent, kneeling there, for the longest time. And she would cry. I remember looking at her and wondering why she was crying. She would do the same thing when I sat with her in church. I was raised in a Pentecostal Holiness church so you can imagine that it got a little loud at times. But my Nanny was never loud. She just silently wept. I never heard her raise her voice. I remember her kindness to others. I remember her patience. I remember how she used to treat everyone the same. I learned a lot about Jesus from her. My desire is to see my Nanny again some day. I want to ask her why she was crying. And I want to thank her for the impact she had on my life without her even knowing it.

The older I get the more I realize just how precious our memories are. When I am having a sleepless night, I go back to my childhood and re-live the details of it. I feel so thankful to be able to say that my past is a place that brought me joy. I wouldn't go back there so much if it wasn't. I haven't always thought that. I have had times where I was bitter and confused about some of the aspects of my past. I can honestly say now that I wouldn't trade any moment of it, the good and the hard. I see the good as a bonus and the hard as a necessity. Both make us who we are.

I'm glad I took that shortcut this morning.