Tuesday, December 9, 2014
A few weeks ago, while at church, we were struggling to keep the girls at least somewhat quiet while in our pew.
Lola was coloring but Millie would have none of it. She didn’t want to draw, she didn’t want to play, she didn’t want to eat fruit snacks. I had just about exhausted all my options when she started signing for “black” and pointing at the tray where the hymnals are kept.
I offered here the red hymnal but she rejected that, again signing for black (you'd think I'd have figured it out the first time, right?!). So I gave her the Bible, the nearest black thing I saw. Millie smiled and sat quietly as she flipped through the pages, happily entertaining herself for quite a while.
Hey, whatever works. She wasn't being destructive or disruptive. She was happy, so we were happy.
A few days later, I was rushing through our morning routines, getting Kid No. 1 off to the bus stop and trying to get myself dressed, the dog out, the lunches packed, etc. You know how it goes…
And I saw Millie walking down the hallway, clutching this dark purple book to her chest and dragging her "cuddles" (blanket) behind her.
That’s odd, I thought, immediately recognizing the book as my Bible, the one I keep on my nightstand, usually buried under a few other books. I followed her into the living room and watched her climb onto the couch and open the book, again flipping through its pages and smiling.
She got angry with me about fifteen minutes later, when I told her we had to put the book away, that it was time to leave for school. It was a battle, but not a unique one. We have similar battles about dollies, about play phones, about blankets.
But as soon as we got home that evening, she ran into the living room and scooped that Bible into her arms, not even pausing to take off her coat.
Ever since that day, she has carried that Bible with her from the moment she gets home until the moment we leave or she goes to bed.
I am sure it is just another phase, that there is something about the weight of the pages, their lightlessness, their texture, that she is fascinated by. I've given her baby Bibles and picture Bibles, and she doesn't much care for those. It is this book, the one with the leather cover, the light pages, that she wants all of the time.
I am sure it is something she will grow out of, but still, considering the season, I'm happy she chose now to latch onto this particular item. On Sunday evening, after she was being especially whiny and needy, I snuggled up beside her and, with her permission of course, temporarily took my Bible back from her, and we read, together, the Christmas story.
She continues to remind us about what is truly important this time of year.
And for that, I'm thankful.