Thank God for little girls

CINDY TRANE CHRISTESON

“I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things of life

which are the real ones after all.”

-- Laura Ingalls Wilder

“It’s hard to be stressed when we’re playing in the sand, Mary; it

just doesn’t work,” I said to our beautiful brown-eyed granddaughter.

Mary looked up at me and smiled. “I don’t think it would be possible

to be stressed looking at your sweet smile, either, Mary,” I added.

Again, she smiled and then went back to her little project in the

sand.

Mary is 16 months old and already seems to understand a great

deal, and she has taught me a lot, too. She and I talk quite a bit

when we are together. She communicates well for her young age, either

in words she knows, some of the sign language she also uses to get

her wishes across or by pointing. There are also plenty of times when

she seems to speak in sentences, although they aren’t spoken with

words I understand; she speaks them with such authority that I’m sure

she knows exactly what she means.

I took Mary for a walk in our stroller recently, and we ended up

at our neighborhood park. I hadn’t packed any sand toys, but I looked

around and found a small plastic top like the ones on top of a water

bottle, and a bent white plastic spoon. Those two items and the sand

kept the two of us happily occupied for at least the next 20 minutes.

I held the bottle top, and she filled it; we counted to three and

then dumped it on the little concrete wall that bordered the sand and

the play area. We continued this for quite some time and made a long

row of tiny sand piles. Then Mary decided it was time to use her

spoon to erase all the piles and start again. This time she tried to

fill the plastic top herself, and then she was content to stir the

sand with the spoon, as if she were cooking.

Several people walked or jogged by, and some of them had dogs in

tow. Mary happily said “Hi” to the people and “Woof, woof” to the

dogs. Some other children came to swing and play on the slides, and

Mary greeted them with smiles, too, though she was clearly not

interested in swinging herself. Several large crows bounced around

near us, and Mary laughed at them. She pointed to them as they flew

away. I explained that crows are not my favorite birds, but I said I

knew that God had made them for a reason, just like everything else.

Mary sat quietly, as if she were thinking about what I said.

Mary and I played on the teeter-totter for a while, and then she

and I climbed on some of the other play equipment. I kissed her sweet

cheeks as I strapped her in the stroller, and we headed home. I told

Mary that I was thankful that God made her.

Once we were home, I followed Mary’s cute little curls to play in

a tunnel made from a large cardboard box. We crawled through

repeatedly, laughing and tickling each other’s toes whenever we

could. Then I scooped her up and kissed her and thanked God again.

Children really are the best teachers when it comes to the lesson of

what matters most in life. People do.

And you can quote me on that.

* CINDY TRANE CHRISTESON may be reached at [email protected].