This child has a birthday this week, so today, when she came to visit, our daughter gave her some colorful markers and a leather, spiral-bound notebook. Because this child loves to draw.
Here is a masterpiece from those little fingers.
According to the artist, there is a tiger in the center. The vertical line right down the middle of the page is a rope that he can climb. The brown "writing" on the top and bottom says, Happy Birthday, Papa!
Of course. Now that we know, we see it.
Still in my robe, I sat down to observe this sweet child at work.
Such concentration. Check out the left, big toe curled off the carpet. Very Van Gogh-ian. Or maybe Da Vinci-an. I wonder what they were drawing at age three.
At times, this child was quick-draw-McGraw.
A tornado of a fist.
Other times, she was deliberate....
...careful to add details like "sprinkles."
She had a vision.
For forty minutes, she worked, standing at our coffee table in her gymnastic Unitard, trying out every marker.
The orange marker was a particular favorite.
Very timely for Halloween, I say. I see some pumpkins in there.
It was delightful to observe a young, untarnished mind exploring colors and circles and tigers in complete confidence and freedom.
It reminded me of the time our 8-year old nephew visited many summers ago. We were playing with clay, and David was having a blast forming giraffes and spiders and dinosaurs. He asked his mom why God made so many animals.
His mom replied, "Because God loves to create. He loves to makes all kinds of creatures, great and small."
David thought about this, and after a moment, remarked, "He must have had a lot of fun making me."
HA! I know he did, buddy.
Youngsters are the best. Unguarded and genuine. It's beautiful to see, and to be reminded of, because the grown-up world is so often self-protective and cynical.
Our little visitor left a beautiful piece of artwork for my daughter. It's now hanging on the refrigerator.
She didn't explain this one, so I guess it's open to interpretation.
Maybe another tiger. Or an unfurled ball of yarn. Or a '57 Edsel.
What I really see is God's goodness. The gift of tiny fingers and potential and possibility.