Mini Missionary

This morning as I chatted with my daughter, Ely, she told me about a new friend she met at her daddy's house. This new friend for some reason can't walk. She was telling me about this, and then interjected, "and she thinks Jesus isn't real, but He is, isn't He, mommy?"

I wasn't prepared for the sudden change in subject, but I confirmed for her that Jesus is indeed real, and that He is my friend. She then said, "but my new friend thinks He's just pretend. Jenny* at school thinks He's dead for always, but He's not."

I said, "That's right, He lives with Heavenly Father now, but He is alive again."

"Jenny thinks He's not here at all. Is He, mommy?"

"Well, sweetie. He lives with Heavenly Father. Sometimes He visits here, but He doesn't live here like we do. The Spirit is here, and tells us things in our hearts."

"Yeah, Jenny is wrong. Jesus loves us, huh?"

"Yes, He does."

Four years old, and already soaking in more doctrine than I thought she could comprehend. Already testifying. What humbling news for me. What a responsibility!

Sneakiness

My daughter, whom I shall call Ely here, is developing her understanding of when she is in trouble. Today, as I was in the checkout line, unbeknownst to me, she grabbed a York Peppermint Patty and tried to taste it through the wrapper. I caught her in the act with an "Ely! What are you doing?" From the first syllable of her name, she hurriedly stuffed the candy back into the box and gave me her angel eyes.

"Angel eyes" is what I call it when looks at me with her wide, brilliant blue eyes and smiles sweetly. It is hard to be irritated with those eyes. I had to check the candy. Sure enough, she bit a perfect half-moon bite through the wrapper, and although the wrapper itself was not broken, I was certain no one would want to eat a York Peppermint Patty with indentations from Ely's teeth. I had to buy it, accompanied by firm verbal assurances to my daughter that her behavior was not acceptable.

The lady at the checkout stand disapproved of how I chastened my daughter. It embarrassed me, knowing I was having to discipline my child in public, but what choice do you have with a two-year-old? They don't understand discipline for something in the past. I am gaining more and more sympathy for mothers with small children, now that I am one.

After we left the store and returned to the car, I was strapping her into her car seat and lecturing her. "Lectures" for such a small girl consist of repeating "What you did was wrong. That candy did not belong to you. Candy, no. No touch!"

Upon hearing this lecture, my daughter lifted her arms and soulfully said "Kisses, mommy?" Of course, I gave her kisses and told her I love her, but I didn't let go that easily.

"What do you do when you see candy?"

"No touch!"

"Good! Good girl. You are very smart. Don't touch candy without asking mommy first, okay?"

"Yes! I love you, mommy!"

"I love you, too, honey." She is truly the light of my life, even in her mischief. It is difficult to keep the balance between love and teaching, but she helps me remember that I am not far different. I can see, now, why God sometimes does what He does in my life.

I'm not a big fan of York Peppermint Patties, though I can eat them. My husband categorically hates mint. Therefore, there is a York Peppermint Patty in my freezer. Perhaps I won't ever eat it. It reminds me that the world is a very different place to a two year old, where finding the beauty and intrigue in a pretty, shiny wrapper outweighs understanding of ownership. It reminds me that I don't know everything.

And there is no other Peppermint Patty in the world quite like that one, now.