Out of the Mouths of Babes | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Out of the Mouths of Babes | Previous Challenge Entry
By
11/23/06
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"Grandma, I like your face. It's old and wrinkled."

That innocent mixed message spoken by my three year old great-granddaughter caused me to chuckle out loud. For in her underdeveloped word finder of social graces she spoke the truth, and from her clear blue eyes that sharply penetrated my face, I witnessed a pure and honest love. That very young child was soaking in the mystery of aging, before society could influence her with its self absorbed message that our outer appearance must be altered to always look younger and more perfect, diminishing the importance of the inner being.

I gathered her up in my arms and hugged her small body, breathing in the memories of doing the same with her mother, my first grandchild, and also her grandfather, my first born child. Now, as a great-grandmother, I couldn't help but question whether I was as generous with my first born in accepting his precocious outbursts, or did I squelch them, being a parent from the "children must be seen and not heard" generation. One thing I have learned is parenting as a grandmother is a special gift the Lord rewards one with in order to have a second chance. A chance to make a child feel absolutely loved and adored unconditionally, in spite of imperfections. And parenting as a great-grandmother is the icing on the cake. That relationship between a young child and an adult is symbiotic; two minds enjoying multiple playtime together, the older forgetting much of the proper protocols of her past and the younger gobbling up the fascination of an adult giant enjoying a miniature cup of make believe tea.

And so the Lord's plan of parenting and grand-parenting is perfect as they both meld together nicely, one needing the other to accomplish their purpose. As a parent raises a child and performs that task through trial and error, there are those seasoned grandparents standing in the wings eager to help smooth the course, and behind them might be the white haired great-grandparents, a special breed of people whose mission is to cheerfully allow a little child to lead them along into a world of newness and playtime.

So, as I approach each new day, and confront another wrinkle, I smile and remember the words of a very special little great-granddaughter, and know that I am blessed.

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