You can’t hold me anymore?

Tuesday morning, I babysat for the sweetest, most precocious little two year old I know. She tells me stories and talks about all sorts of things… she yells at the TV when Dora says, “Say it louder!!” She was showing me her nativity and telling me about the “sweet little baby Jesus” and showed me his mommy and daddy, but when I asked what their names were, she just made stuff up. Her little “hey ‘ome wiff me!” usually means we’re going to “see” her room and “see” her toys, and maybe watch a movie that she “can pick it and put it in!!!” all by herself.

Her mom had surgery that morning, and when she came back, little Reese looked up at her and saw a bandaid on her arm from the IV. Tugging on her shirt, her sweet little voice was so worried as she asked her what had happened!

“It’s just a bandaid, Reese.”

(worried) “But you can’t hold me anymore?”

“Oh sweetie, I can still hold you! Not today, but after.”

“Oh.”

 

Talk about precious!!

Made me reconsider imperfection and helping others, the unblemished Church and her congregation of sinners… so much to learn from sweet little innocence!

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