During the Christmas season I read the story to the grands over. .
and over. .
and over again.
The story I told was one layer in the layers of the stories that they were told by . .
their parents. .
their omi and opa and their nana and papa.
Each of us gave it our own flair to impress upon those young minds the truth of why we celebrate Christmas and each of us now are teaching the wee ones why we celebrate Easter.
I found it much easier to tell all the good news of Christmas as their was no sad parts to tell.
Living on a farm there is natural life lessons . . .
such as new life with baby chicks and baby colts next door . .
and then the end of life with dead worms on the driveway . .an occasional dead baby bird which has fallen out of the nest or the occasional dead rodent which has met the farmer in a dark
it happens.
I would prefer to walk around the end of life lessons and protect the wee ones from what is inevitable on this earth but that would be unrealistic and unwise.
So . . . this week we've closely inspected the dead worms which must have been caught unaware by our vehicles . .and the word "dead" was introduced at the farm.
The story of Easter is nothing without the sad part.
The truth of the matter is that Jesus did die the most horrible death .
When we get to the page in the story where the people that loved Jesus are weeping as the cross is in the background . . .
I can easily sound sad ...since it is true that sadly Jesus willingly died not only for me. .
but because of me . .and my strong and stubborn will.
Then . ..
We quickly turn the page to the empty tomb where I easily sound happy and relieved that Jesus is alive . . . and loves us today as much as he did the day he died on the cross.
It's hard to know what a wee one understands .. .
but we use what we can.
The last few weeks I've worn this beautiful version of the cross.
I'd rather wear a nugget of gold with a hole in it to represent the empty tomb but again. .
it is the cross I need to be reminded of.
What I do know is this. .
the trinket I normally wear around my neck is noticed to be missing.
Every day that the wee ones come to visit . .
they notice that my pendant has been replaced by this cross . .
and I can tell them again . .
that Easter is close . . .
It is not my responsibility for what a child understands . .
but it is my responsibility to tell them the wonderful things that are on my heart.
No one would keep the truth from a child . . .
would they?
All for now . . .
