“Out of the mouths of babes…” goes the saying (PS 8:2). I might add out of their coloring markers too.
My daughter Molly and I were both shy and introverted when she was four and I was forty. I would hold her close. Together, we would gaze upon the landscape of the uncertain world and draw strength from each other. Then came the betrayal.
My brother came to visit with his family. I hadn’t seen him in decades. They stayed in my house. He had four children, so six new additions to the home were a lot for a shy little girl to handle.
She tried to climb up on my lap when I was yukking it up with my brother. I brushed her away. “Not now, Molly. Daddy’s busy.” She left the room. She dropped a picture on my lap about fifteen minutes later. Pictures were her way of speaking up and expressing herself. After barely a glance, I said, “That’s very nice. Thank you, Molly.”
As she started to walk away, I took a closer look at the picture. It was of Molly and me. I recognized the genre. I always had a big circle for the head and long legs. She was the smaller circle, with shorter legs. A big smile was on my face. I then looked Molly’s face. Her big smile was upside down. She added an extra feature. Little blue dots ran down her cheeks, expressing her profound sadness.
The picture brought me to tears. I scooped her up and put her on my lap. I said, “Molly, there is no way Daddy can be so happy if you are so sad. I’m sorry.”
I’ve saved the picture in my journal as a powerful reminder of who I do not want to be, not just to my daughter, but to the people around me. Even if it feels like a distraction, I need to be present to others and see them through the eyes of my heart.
Each person crossing my path could be that Christ child looking for something from me. What might that be? Mother Theresa poses an answer:
It is always the same Christ who says:
I was hungry – not only for food, but for peace that comes from a pure heart.
I was thirsty – not only for water, but for a peace that satiates the thirst for war.
I was naked – not only for clothes, but for that beautiful dignity worn by each man and woman.
I was homeless – not only for a shelter made of bricks, but for a heart that understands.
(from her biography, Doing Something Beautiful for God)
May the Lord show you how to be present to the people that cross your path.