Angie and Jesus

I was a nanny for a long time, before I became an early childhood education teacher. I have had many beautiful young minds grace my presence, and each one of those angels was unique, entertaining and a constant source of comedic relief. One little girl, Angie, was particularly “curious.” She would ask questions until you were left babbling incoherently. Even at the tender age of three, she would find each little loophole in your statements and crawl right through it. I swore that child would be a lawyer when she reached adulthood.

One morning, some missionaries came to the door. I didn’t want to be rude, so I took their pamphlets, thanked them and gently closed the door. Angie was watching me closely. An hour or so later we were having our lunch and she snatched one of the pamphlets from the table. Our following conversation went something like this:

“Miss Sherry, who is this?”

“That’s Jesus, sweetheart.”

“He looks sad.”

“Well, in that picture, he was.”

Keep in mind the family I “nannied” for was a non-religious family, and forbade me from teaching any religious doctrine to their children.

“Can Jesus come to my house and play?”

“No honey, Jesus lived a long time ago, and he lives with his daddy now.”

“Well, what if his Mommy says he can?”

At this point, I was flustered, not knowing if I was going to get into trouble for this conversation.

“Jesus lives too far away to come and play, Angie.”

“Well, if his Mommy says he can come and play, I KNOW he can!”

I was silent for a while, trying to think of something, anything to say to this little girl that wouldn’t confuse her, or get me in trouble.

“Honey, Jesus lived a long time ago, and he isn’t alive anymore; he lives in our hearts, and our minds.”

If I wanted not to confuse Angie, I failed miserably. She was quietly toying with her macaroni and cheese, and I could almost hear those proverbial “gears” turning. Finally, she looked up at me with a big, gap-toothed smile.

“Do you know hims phone number?”