On a winter day that could well have passed for May just a couple of years ago, my wife and four-year-old granddaughter went for a walk, along with half the rest of the town. The weather was perfect, and a blessing.
“So, Jocey,” my wife asked, “what do you think you’d like to be when you grow up.”
She was soon to be five and very sophisticated.
“I’d like to put on make up,” she said, “or else I’d like to be a doctor, or maybe work in a grocery store.”
Such an answer makes perfectly clear why Jesus Christ put so much stock in little kids. And it’s no wonder, really, why innocence-to-experience stories are the soul of so much of the world’s great fiction. Innocence is such a treasure to leave behind.
It’s a blessing when you have it and even to remember when it’s long, long gone—and I’m thankful for it, for innocence, this morning.