She doesn't know that there are people who are willing to fly planes into buildings. She doesn't know some people strap bombs to their bodies and walk into crowded markets. She doesn't know others hurt little children.
And Charlotte doesn't know about suffering...
She has no idea that some people live in complete hopelessness. She has no concept that people get sick. She doesn't know that loved ones grow old and die.
And if I had any say in it, she never would, because those things wouldn't happen. But they do, so she will.
But when she falls asleep in my arms each night, peace descends upon her face. Every muscle relaxes and her body goes limp. This is the rest of complete innocence. And as I hold her, I wonder how long that will last. Part of my job as a parent is to prolong that innocence as long as it is in my power to do so, to be vigilent in my prayers and to be steadfast in my convictions. So when that day comes and that innocence is broken, it won't be by my hand and it won't be by my negligence. And with a clear conscience, I can hold her close and reassure her that the evil and the suffering is temporary- that she was created for something far greater!
I wish we could all go to bed each night with that kind of innocence, to sleep with that kind of peace. But we can't, so let us try our hardest and most faithfully to assure that our children can.
|sweet dreams little girl|