The bean came with me to work this morning, because we had an appointment a little later on and I had promised him he could.
We listen to NPR in the car in the mornings on the way to preschool and work, he and I. Or I listen, and occasionally he will ask me questions about what he hears.
This morning, there was a particularly moving storycorps story about a little boy who had a premonition about his death. You can see the article and listen to the audio [here]. Predictably, I started to cry. I don't cry about a lot of things very easily. These days, it's pretty much soldiers and young children.
Anyway, himself was quite concerned, understandably, and asked me what was wrong. I explained that a little boy had died, and it made me sad. He nodded, and thought about that a minute. But God and Jesus helped him, right? he asked. Yes, I said, sniffling a little harder at that. God came to take him home.
A. nodded at that, satisifed, but still concerned because I was visibly upset. Mama, he said, putting his arms around me as I got him out of the car, you shouldn't be sad. God and Jesus will take very good care of him. And when we die they will take care of us, too.
I thought to myself, I wish it were that simple, that easy. Then again, I thought, looking at his upturned face, maybe it is.
Edited to add: My little preacher has been spreading the good word all morning because of this, telling everyone he comes in contact with about the radio story, and that thanks to God we don't have to be afraid. I'm sorry, Lord, the message you were trying to get through again was? (All the subtlely of a Mack truck today, apparently.)
