Like Little Children

Fairly recently, the movie “Charlotte’s Web” came out, and several reviews made me contemplate that, even as adults, we still have the ability to aspire to child-like belief, and in fact, Jesus admonishes us to do just that!

As adults, we are all forced to be practical, realistic, and to keep our feet firmly planted on the ground. However, a balance needs to be struck somehow; our very faith requires that we accept things without physical proof, and acknowledge the unseen daily.

As a child, I read "Charlotte's Web", over and over again, and while, to this day, I fear and despise spiders, Charlotte has always held a special place in my heart. I cried real tears when she died. I pondered the doctor's words to Fern's parents, reminding them that the imagination of a child is a fleeting but valuable thing and should be treasured for as long as possible. Today, that passage makes me cry for I fear I am Fern all grown up, having forgotten the belief in things beyond my experience.

When I read "The Chronicles of Narnia", I remember going each day to check the back wall of my closet, just in case there was a passage to Narnia for me, too. And I really BELIEVED that it was possible, although I never confessed this to anyone at the time. Yet for years, I begged for a doorway to open so that I could meet Mr. Tumnus, so that I could meet a talking horse, and dine with the Kings and Queens of that beautiful and far away land.

Perhaps now you laugh at such fancy, and as an adult, I do, too. But at the same time, I can't stop the pangs of bittersweet remorse for my indulgent laughter, for I cannot get the Biblical admonition to become like the children. For, as Jesus said, it is only those who are like these children who will inherit the Kingdom of God.

What does this mean?

Children are humble; they are small vessels of God's abundant grace, and they accept, unquestioningly, that the Divine is among them. They have not thrown up barriers and they do not know the careful art of argument and debate. Their lives are simple and if we tell them that Jesus is in the tabernacle, they accept this, although granted, with many questions for they cannot understand how a full-grown man can live in such a small space. But they will still accept this as Truth and go about their day resting in the knowledge that Jesus is always there.

Children are in contact with the mystical, which we as adults shut out all too often. We hear that "still, small voice" in our hearts and call it "imagination", whereas children may be conversing fluently with the Angels and just consider it to be a part of daily life.

I remember, as a child, when I still had to stand on the kneeler in order to see over the pew, our parish always sang the "Our Father" during Mass. I don't think Father Weber usually used a microphone, for our church was very small, but during that prayer, when he offered his part before the doxology, I remember that a gentle, yet overpowering voice spoke over the music. It didn't sound like Father Weber, because the voice was far too BIG to be his. I remember how everyone stood silently against the subdued background music, praying, yet there was no outward recognition as to what was going on. Not that I could see.

I became convinced that God was speaking to us Himself. This went on for a couple weeks as I became more and more perplexed as to why no one reacted when God was speaking so audibly. His voice was EVERYWHERE, and no one seemed to care!

So the next Sunday, during this part of the prayer, I could contain myself no longer. I realized that I was the ONLY PERSON who realized that this was GOD'S VOICE and thus it was my duty to make sure everyone gave Him the reverence He was due.

I tugged at Mom's sleeve..."Mom!" I said in a loud whisper.

She shook me off.

I became more urgent in my request, pulling on her arm, raising my voice a little more. This was the most important thing I had ever said, and I would not be denied! God was SPEAKING to us and NO ONE SEEMED TO NOTICE!

"MOM!" More urgent, a note of hysteria entering my voice.

"SHHHHH!" She shushed me.

I was actually a very shy child, and by this point, people around us were beginning to stare. I was faltering, but I really believed that God was speaking, so I HAD to persevere, in spite of my own inclination to be silent and hidden. So I raised my voice once again, tugging on her arm insistently, desperately trying to call her attention to God's voice.

Finally, she turned to me, visibly annoyed, finally listening as I told her, "Mom...that's God! God is talking to us!"

Mom did nothing; she just looked me in the eye and told me to be quiet.

And then Father's part ended, Mom continued to look irritated as we sang the Doxology, and I realized I had failed in calling attention to God's voice. People around us were snickering, and I didn't understand why, so I chose to ignore them.

They continued to smile at me throughout the remainder of the Mass and made special effort to shake my hand, but my greeting to them was lackluster, for I felt that I had failed in my divine mission, although I didn't realize that that's what it was.

Of course, as you've guessed by now, there was no voice of God; rather only a child mistaking the wonders of modern technology.

But I will never forget that day, because as an adult, I only WISH I could so unquestionably believe that God is speaking to us. I only WISH I would be so obedient to calling the attention to those around me to God's presence.

There I was, a little girl, no voice or status at all, yet so convinced of God's actual presence that I literally overcame my shyness and made a fool of myself in order to make sure everyone else knew about it. God still requires this of us all, and how often do we listen to that prompt?

I wish I had the humility I had as a little girl.

Sometimes we forget that Jesus was a child once, too, and we perhaps have other little ones in our lives who have no problem with that concept. Jesus was a child once, just like them. They have no problem relating to Him; they have not yet learned to throw up barriers and suspend belief.

This week, don't just focus on the everyday stuff that has to be done, but rather, take some time to remember what it was like to be a child, to believe without question, to understand that God could and does move among us every single day....and when you look at Jesus in the arms of St. Joseph or St. Anthony, don’t just pass him by, but BELIEVE.

Allow yourself to be a child again, if only for just one day...and allow God to reveal Himself to you once again as a child, and see if you can remember what it was like to believe in what you cannot understand, and follow the promptings you cannot explain. We all focus on our lives as adults; isn’t it time to remember that in God’s eyes, we are forever His children? Forget about your life as an adult; just be still, recognize God, and see Him once again through a child’s eyes.