A few weeks ago, Brooke and I were in the post office running an errand. There was a line, and right in front of us was a mother with two girls. The youngsters were red-haired, pale-skinned, about 12 and 15. Naturally, Brooke said hello, and tried to talk to them. They just stared at her in cold silence. It was not a reaction she had ever experienced before that day.
After she had spoken to them at least five times, with no response but the same deadly stares, she turned to me, distraught and on the verge of tears."Why won't they talk, Mom?" she said, loudly enough for them to hear. I was disturbed by their rudeness, but I took the higher ground, seeing that both daughters and mother were listening (still in complete cold silence) to see what I would say. "Some people are just shy, Brooke, and they're scared to talk."
The reason I recount this episode is because of what Brooke said today. Like most of her reflections, it wasn't prompted by anything in particular, and just drifted up to me from the back seat while we were driving home from preschool."Mom, remember those girls in the post office?""Yes," I said."Maybe they couldn't hear, and they didn't know their sign language. Maybe that's why they didn't talk."
What could I say to such charity? Her unwavering assumption of goodness in other people is possible only for a completely inoocent heart. I said: "Maybe so, Brookie. Maybe so."
Therefore, anyone who becomes as humble as this little child is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven. And anyone who welcomes a little child like this on my behalf is welcoming me.