Wednesday, March 6
“People were bringing little children to him in order that he might touch them; and the disciples spoke sternly to them. But when Jesus saw this, he was indignant and said to them, “Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.” And he took them up in his arms, laid his hands on them, and blessed them. –Mark 10:13-16
All Jordan had wanted that year for Christmas was a basketball hoop. She was very specific about the particular kind — not attached to the roof like the old house we lived in. She said she wanted one at the end of the driveway on its own pole and said she didn’t mind waiting until the ground thawed to put the pole into the ground.
When springtime arrived, her grandfather and father spent one Sunday afternoon digging the hole, mixing the cement and setting the pole up to regulation height. Jordan’s face was filled with excitement when she was told the cement would be dry the next day and she could finally use the gift she’d waited 4 months to play.
The next morning, it was difficult to convince Jordan to get into her father’s truck so I could drive her to school. She set the basketball near the bushes by the front step so she wouldn’t have to go into the house when she returned home after school before she played.
Starting up the engine of her father’s old farm truck, I was suddenly reminded of how hard it was to crank the wheel to make it turn the slightest amount. Since we were already late and in a hurry, I pushed on the gas. The truck lurched and before I could turn the truck far enough to the left we heard a heavy thud followed by a loud smash.
Through the rear view mirror I discovered what my daughter had already seen as she looked out the back window of the truck; the broken pole and shattered basketball backboard on the driveway behind the truck. Looking at the shocked face of my daughter filled with disappointment, and tears streaming down her face, I suddenly realized how careless I had been and began to cry.
As I sobbed into my folded hands, I suddenly felt a small hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay Mommy,” she said, “It was only a basketball hoop you ran over.” Not understanding what she was trying to say, I started to remind her of how much I knew this gift had meant to her, to which she replied, “But it’s only a thing, at least it wasn’t a person.” – submitted by Shelly Cichowlas
Loving God, thank you for your gift of children who, through their innocence and ability to offer unconditional forgiveness, offer us hope and remind us that it is people, not things, that are most important in life. Amen.