September 2, 2017
They hung briefly on the wall, their gossamer beauty a stark contrast to the staid backdrop, childish imagination amidst the reminders of old age. Filmy fairy wings next to felt fedoras were clear testimony to the wonders of childhood wiggling their way into the unimaginative world of grownups. The grandkids were spending the night, and little Gemma had to model her fairy costume that she intends to wear for Halloween, still two months away. This girl knows how to plan ahead! Back when we had the family together in Lancaster, PA, to see Sight and Sound’s production of Jonah, she had seen them when she and her mother were shopping. There was no discouraging her; she had to have those fairy wings, and had to wear them when we went out to dinner that night.
This evening, I was digging through my old laptop, looking unsuccessfully for some sermon notes from long ago. I did happen to find a file of old photos of the grandkids. They weren’t really that old; five to seven years ago, but when you’re a kid, a lot changes in just a few years. Some of the pictures would be positively embarrassing to them now, but are memories we nonetheless cherish. Childlike innocence is such a fleeting thing; in the blink of an eye, they are grown up, off to work or college, making their own way in life.
When old people like us see little babies and toddlers, we often declare how we wish they would stay that way forever, but we know that would be tragic. When children fail to develop, to mature; when they stay children forever, that oft-repeated wish has a bitter taste. So we enjoy it while it lasts, letting those magical moments enthrall us with joy, even as we watch them grow out of that innocence into a more mature reality, all the while hoping and praying that they not lose the wonder of life itself.
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