Just Old

My six year old grandson is kind and thoughtful.   Truly, he is. 

Trying to keep up with him recently (not always an easy task), I explained my slowness by saying: 'I'm coming.  I'm just lazy.' 

Oh dear (I could hear him thinking)....  Could Grandma be feeling unhappy about that?  Why, such a thing would never do. 

'Oh no you're not!' he said quickly.  

He seemed determined to reassure me.  

'You're just tired, Gaga.   And OLD.'
 
That explains a lot. 

'I say we should look to the young, untarnished, without stereotypes implanted in their minds, no poison, no hatred in their hearts.  When we learn to see life through the eyes of a child, that is when we become truly wise.' (Mother Teresa of Calcutta)

Painting:  Jozef Israëls 

This post is part of Catholic Bloggers Network Linkup Blitz

Saturday, September

Air is sultry, silky, weighted;
sauna-hot with steam.
The clock keeps up a steady tick
and chimes into my dream.
Grandson doesn't want
a hug; he's much too big,
says he.  He sucks his thumb
and hides from 'scary' Veggies on tv.

Schoolbooks are all stashed
away; Saturday's for play.
Raindrops splatter blades of
grass, but look: I see a ray
come slashing
through the wall of clouds.

September; Saturday.



                                                                                                                   

and so we choose life

"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you were born I consecrated you...."  (Jeremiah 1:5)  

"My frame was not hidden from You when I was being made in secret, intricately wrought in the depths of the earth."  (Psalm 139:15)

"Choose life, then, that you and your descendants may live..."  (Deuteronomy 30:19)

Linus and Lessons

Being a "homeschooled grandma," I continue to appreciate the lessons I'm taught by three pint- sized tutors.  Funny:  I missed such lessons when my own children were small.  But of course that isn't funny at all.. it's understandable.  I was busy with "At this moment everybody at once needs to be fed clothed diapered bathed held bandaged  corrected inspected collected and perfected." 

Not being the person responsible for getting everyone everywhere anymore, I take these years of  grandma-time to listen for the lessons.  I have found they are all around me.  "Linus," for instance, gave me a lesson on new year's day. 

I've long called this little one (now age 3) our "little Linus" because he has been a thumb sucker since birth, and for nearly two years he dragged his beloved blankie everywhere (to church, to the grocery, fishing on a muddy riverbank with Daddy..).  I suppose it's only appropriate, therefore, that little Linus has a streak of the philosopher within him.  I can easily imagine him marching onstage to explain what Christmas is really all about, Charlie Brown.

On New Year's day, Linus offered the grace before dinner.  His prayer was a string of thank-yous..  Thank you for Mommy and Daddy and Grandma and Pop and Mimi and the dog.  Thank you for food, and Christmas, and turkey; thank you for toys and fishing poles and my new game and snow.  And thank you God for cheese. 

We all sat with heads bowed, the aroma of cooling food reaching our nostrils, and patiently listened.  Every now and then someone would interject an "amen," which Linus saw not so much as an ending, but more of an "Amen, Brother!!!!!" as he continued on.

The lesson for me?  Primarily it was one of thanks.  I didn't look on Linus' grace as merely something cute; I joined in his thanksgiving, for I saw it as a real prayer.  I am sure God saw it that way, too.

I wonder.  What if I were to go through today thanking God for everything I think of, everything I see, everything in nature in which I see His hand?  Would this please Him?  Oh, I know it would.   Do I want to please God today?  Indeed I do.

So thank You, God for Linus and Lessons.  Thank you for Linus' sisters.  Thank you for sunshine and snowflakes and trees and gravy and lamplight and my family and a furnace and a house. 

And thank You God for cheese.