Unless you become like a little child……

We had our fourteen-month-old granddaughter over from Abbotsford, British Columbia for six days last week. She took her mom with and we were delighted to have the two of them with us. At fourteen months she has learned to walk on her own, a little wobblily, yet quite independently. What intrigued us more was what she saw along the way. Walking along the sidewalk she noticed the bright yellow plastic sleeves covering guide wires holding up telephone poles. She heard her own steps on the boardwalk when tackling the forty-mile creek. She had to stick her head through the wooden trusses on the bridge and stare at the creek flowing underneath. She stopped at every puddle in the parking lot and splashed and played as if cleaning her hands. She noticed dirt along the path, where the boardwalk ended and allowed it to flow through her fingers. She introduced us to the Port Dalhousie Carousel that costed a nickel a ride. That’s right, five cents. We would never have thought of going there if she did not take us. The place was crawling with grandparents who appeared to be having more fun than the kids. The music from the carousel kept drawing her off the playground and back to the red fence where she would point to the horses, the elephants, the giraffe’s and all the other animals that went around and around. We took her to Niagara Falls, and she was more impressed with the puddles of mist along the sidewalk than the roaring waters cascading over the falls. Here too, she insisted on walking on her own, among big people of every color, size, and shape. At fourteen months she came up to most people’s knee caps. When it was time to fly back home, our daughter needed some help at the airport, with a huge red suitcase, a stroller, car seat and back pack, as well as a wobblily toddler. I got the task of keeping her occupied while our daughter checked in. She was more than a little nervous boarding a five- hour flight with a well-rested one-year old. I kissed them good by at the gate and they were off. She had just under an hour to spare, when the two of them boarded a moving sidewalk. Rather than enjoying the ride from one end to the other, Esther turned around and began walking against the traffic. People were turning heads and laughing along the way and she persisted. For forty minutes, Esther worked out on Air Canada’s fantastic tread mill, reaching the end more than once. The crowning benefit was tiring herself out and sleeping for three of the five hours on the plane. I told my daughter 

she might consider writing Air Canada, thanking them for their treadmill in the terminal. Jesus had an eye for watching little children, as he too said, “Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” It sure was fun seeing the world through the eyes of a child again. Pastor Sid

Peter Van Geest