Shirley and I are two of the most blessed people on earth. We are counted among that special group of people called “Grand-Parents.” Even more than that, we are among the inner circle of these people because we have been so very fortunate to have been able to care for our grandchildren, in our home, from the day their mom went back to work till they went off to middle school. Even when I was appointed to churches in Eden and Winston Salem, Shirley would drive to Greensboro five days a week to care for the kids. After retiring and moving back to Greensboro, we still picked them up at school and brought them to their home where they were greeted by their dad.
It has been a beautiful and blessed ride. Being with your grandkids are magical days filled with laughter, hugs, tears and many surprises. We would move from dancing with the “Wild Thing” tiger, putting a bowl of spaghetti-o’s on your head, sliding on the Slip ‘N Slide, constructing large buildings with Legos, or walking the runway in your princess crown and magic wand.
One of those special days found Shirley, Abby (our granddaughter) and me running some errands. We stopped at this little strip-shopping center, so Shirley could run in and do her shopping while Abby and I waited in the car.
Abby is about four years old. As she is sitting in her car seat everything is quiet and peaceful… and then Abby asks this very leading question: “PaPaw, can this be a toy day?” I knew she was really asking: “Can we go somewhere and you buy me a toy?” Trying not to get her hopes up I responded: “I don’t make those decisions.” Quickly she adds “Who does?” I think I am deflecting the question by answering “MaMaw does.” There is this eerie silence coming from the back seat… I can almost hear the gears of this four-year-old “female” brain rapidly spinning. Finally, the silence is broken by her conclusion: “Then you and Noah are sergeants.”
I almost got a whiplash in my neck as I quickly turned to face her and with great surprise asked: “What??? What do you mean by saying that Noah and I are like sergeants?” She explains: “Sergeants do what they’re told. You and Noah do what you’re told… You are worker bees.” Being really confused by now, I ask: “How are we like worker bees.” She very self-assuredly said: “Worker bees do whatever the queen bee wants them to do.” Feeling like I am in the presence of a Nobel Laureate, I ask for clarification: “What exactly do worker bees do?” Apparently knowing what she is talking about she says: “They keep the hive clean, get and bring the Queen food. So, you and Noah are sergeants… you do whatever the queen wants.”
My jaw dropped. I laid my head on the steering wheel as I sat there amazed at being able to witness the workings of a four-year-old female brain. I thought to myself: If a four-year-old little girl already thinks this way then… men, we don’t have a chance!
Grace and Peace
Steve
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The Journey 