It was my privilege to accompany the preschoolers as they sang in the Christmas play. Away in a Manger, Joy to the World, and We Three Kings were the line up, with hand motions for extra expression. Afterwards I spoke with a grandmother of one of the boys. She is the person who started me with chickens six years ago. She had brought hatching eggs to the first grade, and when she came to pick up the day old chicks I asked what she would do with them now.
"Do you want them?"
And so the adventure began.
We continue to chat, and share prayers for people we love. Recently she has gifted me with some vintage hats for the costume collection. She told me about a conversation with her grandson.
"Will there be music in the play?" she had asked.
"Oma, you know that lady who is your friend? The one who gives you hugs? She comes and plays."
That was enough, right there. In that brief interchange it felt as if my life had meaning. A child whom I had no idea was even watching believed that I was his grandmother's friend.
Much of the time I bustle about with sewing, and singing, and laundry, and marriage groups with little awareness of how it looks. But in that instant the heavens opened just enough to remind me that a Child is watching.
