Looking up from mopping the floor, I see my first-born at the door.  Innocent child hands pressed close to the heart.  Compassion tears pool at the brim of her lashes.  I wonder what could be wrong.

Brows wrinkle, eyes squint; I look hard at the little brown fluff laying between hands and heart … and gasp.  To my complete and utter horror, the little brown fluff is nothing more than a dead field mouse.

“Oh My God!  Put that thing down—it’s dirty!” I shriek. 

My solemn little girl says not a word (she knows me well by now), but only turns on her heels and out she goes with a bang of the wooden screen door.

I lean hard into the mop.  The spotless floor shines casting dark shadows across my mind.  When out of the shadows Wisdom speaks:

It seems to me of great importance to teach children respect for life.

And wouldn’t respect for life include both honoring its sacred beginning as well as its sacred end?    

I drop the mop and run to the light—to the kitchen window of my soul.  And through the pane, on bended knee with garden hose in hand, she carefully washes the “dirt” away from the little brown fluff she found. 

In the moment, I am led by a child into greater heights of compassion and understanding.

Life — from the very moment it begins to its very last breath — is the pinnacle of God’s creative imagination and power. The sanctity of life, from womb to tomb, transcends all political rhetoric of our day.

Love & Peace,

“… And a little child shall lead them.”  Isaiah 11:6