Shoved to Them
My brother is still in the hospital with a staph infection in his hand, so tonight his 4 year old son is sleeping at our house. He’s the only child of a single father, and I briefly feared that our controlled chaos would overwhelm him. Silly me. He fell in with the crowd, one of the few times that peer pressure is a good thing, and followed our routines as if he were just one of our own.
I forget sometimes about the resiliency of children. How God has gifted them with more strength than many adults can ever imagine possessing. They change and adapt to fit the moment and their surroundings. They are situational chameleons. It is a gift.
It is also a reminder of the fragility of them . How little of who they are is permanent at this young age and how everything and everyone with whom they have contact changes them a bit, even in imperceptible ways. Every child we see is forever changed by our presence. What kind of impression are we making on them? Is it one of which we can be proud?
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