The Pretty Jungle

The Pretty Jungle

The Lord said to her, “My dear Martha, you are worried and upset over all these details! There is only one thing worth being concerned about.” Luke 10:41-42

My idea of fun is crossing items off my to-do list. So one long-ago morning, I wanted to get the letters to the corner mailbox before the early pickup. But hurrying two toddlers along a sidewalk teeming with wondrous things was impossible. Jay was fascinated by the ants scurrying across the concrete, so he’d get on his hands and knees to watch them. As his little sister joined him, Jay would chime, in his three-and-a-half-year-old voice, “Holly, look at that ant carrying the big crumb. That’s like you or me picking up a car with our teeth.”

Holly would coo, “Is that a daddy ant or a mommy ant?”

Where was I? About ten feet ahead, saying, “Come on. Hurry up.”

Eventually we made it to the mailbox and then started home. I decided we’d walk through the vacant lot across which the neighborhood children rode their bikes to school. The path through the waist-high weeds would get us home sooner.

Calling, “Hurry up, you two,” I rushed across the lot, ignoring the wildflowers on either side of the path. When I reached the sidewalk, I turned back to call another command, but the scene before me stifled the words. Toddler Jay was holding his little sister’s hand as they gazed upward at the flowering weeds over their heads. Then, his voice filled with awe, Jay said, “Holly! Look at the pretty jungle!”

That morning I had the good sense to walk back to my toddlers and gather two bouquets of orange black-eyed Susans and blue cornflowers and place them in outstretched little arms. Then I plucked stalk after stalk of the flat Queen Anne’s lace, bending forward to point out the black, buglike middle of the flower to my appreciative children. Then I said, “When we get home, I’ll show you something magic that flowers do.”

As soon as we scurried through the door, I had Jay and Holly sit at the kitchen table while I filled four large, clear glasses with water. As my children watched, I poured a few drops of green, red, blue, and yellow food coloring into separate glasses before adding the flower stalks. Even these years later, I can see those round little faces leaning on chubby hands as we watched the blooms pull the color up into the lacy petals.

To my credit, I didn’t accomplish much more that day. Instead, I had begun my journey of slowing down to enjoy my children. —SANDRA

Lord, show me how to enjoy the world through the eyes of a child. May I see flowers, clouds, and even rocks in new ways. And may I marvel at your most wonderful creation—the child.

A world without children is a world without newness, regeneration, color and vigor. —JAMES C. DOBSON, PSYCHOLOGIST AND AUTHOR