Wunny Wace

Wunny Wace

Sing praises to God. . . .Father to the fatherless . . .God places the lonely in families . . . and gives them joy.

Psalm 68:4-6

When my cousin Donna first learned to talk, she had a bit of difficulty making the f sound. She automatically substituted the w sound for an f. So instead of “foot,” she said her “woot” hurt. And in popular fairy tales, things were “war, war away.”

Donna loved my brother, who was a teenager at the time. He teased her unmercifully, which she objected to loudly with fake indignation.

My brother would say, “Donna, you’re a funny face.”

And she would say, “I’m not a wunny wace.”

He would say, “You’re a big, fat elephant.”

And she would reply, with feeling, “I’m not a big, wat elewant!”

He would say, “Your face is full of freckles.”

And she would say, “My wace is not wull of wreckles!”

This game went on every time our two families were together until Donna’s sixth birthday, when we came to celebrate with her. She opened her gifts. We played games with the children at the party. And we had cake and ice cream.

After the party was over, my brother, in standard form, said, “Donna, you’re still a funny face.”

And to everyone’s surprise, she said, “I am not a funny face”—the f sound clear and accurate.

“Well, what happened to my ‘wunny wace’?” he asked, laughing.

To our amazement she said, “I’m six years old now. I don’t have to talk like that anymore.” And she never did again.

Wamilies! Aren’t they wabulous?

Father, thank you for creating families, and thank you for my family. They mean so much to me, and I’m so grateful for them. Thank you especially for allowing me to be one of your children and part of your family. Bless you, Father. Amen.