The Love of Children

Two nights ago, my three-year-old son Isaac fell backwards off his bench at a restaurant. He was playing after we had just finished our evening meal. His head hit the floor with that horrid hollow thunk that craniums make when they come in contact with hard objects. I was in the bathroom when this happened; when I heard the crying I thought, "MAN, I hope that isn't Isaac!" There were wails of pain, screams that tore out my heart. If you have seen the move "The Princess Bride," it was just like the scene where Wesley made a "sound of ultimate suffering" while in the machine inside the Pit of Despair. As I walked up and saw it was MY son making those noises I went into protective father mode, ready to engage his attackers no matter the enemy. When Claire told me that he had fallen off the bench and bonked his head, my rage quickly subsided as one cannot defend their loved ones by fighting the floor. All that was left was a brain full of concern, guilt, worry, fear...

What followed was amazing, and was acted out not by adults but by two children about Isaac's age. The little girl across the dining area was apparently amazingly worried about him; I think her mother stopped her from coming over to check on him because as we walked by them on the way out the door she said, "Oh, see, he's okay. You don't have to worry." I got the idea she had actually stopped her daughter from coming over. There was also a little boy seated closer to us who did approach Isaac. He didn't say a word, just started playing with the toy that had come in his kids' combo meal while looking at Isaac. It was like he was beckoning Isaac to bring his own toy and come play with him, to come have fun and enjoy himself. Now, you have to understand that Isaac was still wailing at this point, screaming in pain. To spell it out would look something like this: "AAAAH!!!!" *quick breath in* Repeat, ad infinitum. In fact, he told Claire last night that he hoped "the sparkles" don't come back because they hurt him; he hit his head so hard he had seen stars! Still, despite his pain, I could see on Isaac's face that the invitation from the little boy was tempting.

So here is the thing: none of the adults came to see if Isaac was okay. They looked at us, sure, but didn't make any move towards us or motion of concern. They could have been either worried or annoyed, I'm not sure which. This little girl and boy, though, were immediately concerned and wanted to take action. The girl wanted to make sure Isaac was okay. The little boy wanted to help Isaac feel better. They showed, I think, the kind of love that Jesus wants his people to show each other and the world. These two children hadn't yet been taught to keep to themselves, to not get involved, to mind their own business. Their childlike faith was put into action at the mere sight and sound of someone who had been hurt. They couldn't have healed his physical affliction, but they were still worried about the whole of him. That boy and girl had love for the other that didn't depend on familiarity or a culturally-perceived appropriateness.

Isaac is better now. No trip to the ER was necessary. His bump on the back of his head has shrunk down. I'm still moved by the care these kids showed my son. I'm not angry at the adults: they acted within their rights and I'm sure had we needed it they would have helped. Those kids, though... they did something special. They loved Isaac even though he was loud and a stranger and his pain interrupted their meals. Aren't we called to be actors with the same blatant love for those who are suffering? Wouldn't Jesus have us minister to all of the person, not only the presenting issue? When Jesus healed the paralytic in Mark 2 he forgave his sins first, then proceeded to the physical part of the healing. Healing the woman who had bled for twelve years not only stopped her condition but restored her to a place of cultural acceptance she hadn't known for over a decade. This little boy and girl at the restaurant wanted Isaac to be better, both physically and emotionally. I'm thankful for these little kids and for the love of a fellow human that moved them to want to act. I pray that my faith could be put into action without concern for cultural restraint or self-consideration. I pray that I would be as quick to act when I see or hear suffering!