Let's get one thing settled right up front ... my granddaughter is the smartest, most adorable baby in the universe. And you will never ever convince me otherwise. Every time I see her on Skype, she is even smarter and more adorable than the last time I saw her. Period. End of discussion. Miss C.J. is in a word ... precious. I've always heard grandparents say that you don't really know what love is until you have a grandchild. They. Were. Right. It's not that I love her more than I do my children ... not at all. Those of you who know me know that I love my children more than life itself ... and I have since the day each of the three of them were born. It's just different ... the love I have for C.J., and I'm not really sure how to explain it. Maybe it's about legacy and knowing that my child has his own child. Maybe it's about not having the responsibility for raising her. Or maybe ... maybe it's about the fact ... yes, fact ... that she is the smartest, most adorable baby in the universe. I'm sure that's what it's about.
Today, I stood in line at the post office waiting my turn to place the package in my arms on the counter. And as I did, my brain was racing at warp speed as I thought about ... well, as I thought about a multitude of things. When it was finally my turn to approach the clerk, I was so lost in thought that the gentleman behind me tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Excuse me, maam, but it's your turn." I apologized to the man and walked up and placed the box on the counter. I was quite impressed with myself as I handed the customs form to the clerk. "I think I've finally got this down," I said to the woman, recognizing her from the countless times I've been to this particular post office. She chuckled and asked me how my Canadian baby was doing ... obviously, she remembered me as well. After assuring her that C.J. is indeed the smartest, most adorable baby in the universe, I told her what was in the package ... a laughing Elmo doll ... and I couldn't help but smile at the thought of C.J. giggling along with her favorite Sesame Street character. The character she affectionately knows as Mo Mo ... compliments of her nicknaming father, of course.
I've had children on my mind for the last few days ... kids are quite simply the best ... so innocent, so truthful, so loving, so accepting. Kids don't care if you're tall or short, fat or skinny, black or white, gay or straight, rich or poor, funny or serious ... kids care about one thing ... kids care about how much you love them. I love to see the light spark in a kid's eyes when something makes him happy. I love to hear a kid giggle when something strikes her as funny. I love to listen to a kid tell me what his favorite food is or what he wants to be when he grows up. I love the feeling of a little hand nestled gently in mine as we cross a street. And you know what? Little kids love me back ... they love me back because they know I love them. I will never be able to understand people who hurt children, physically or emotionally. I would never hurt a child ... never ever ... and I simply cannot begin to understand those who would.
So tonight, C.J., Mo Mo is on his way to Canada ... and one day soon, your Granny will be, too. And you want to know something else, baby girl? Even Jesus knew that little kids are the best ... the absolute best.
"But Jesus called for them, saying, “Permit the children to come to Me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these." Luke 18:16
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