It was a pleasant way to spend a summer afternoon. Children arrived with bright eyes and a willing spirit. We explored the stuffed animals on the shelves, and browsed through books for ideas. Then it arrived. The plan. 

 

"I'm going to make a bag," she announced. 

 

"Ok, can you show me with your hands how big?" I asked.

 

She looked down at her palms, sliding them with indecision. Then she knew. They landed about ten inches apart. 

 

"Great. Now you can look on the shelves for fabric. We will need two that go together, one for the inside and one for the outside." 

 

Choosing fabric cannot be rushed. There are after all so many colors and prints. She climbed on the chair to get a closer look at the upper shelves. Meanwhile I turned my attention to her sister. 

 

"Have you picked a project?" Often she follows her sibling's lead. 

 

"A bag!" she smiled. 

 

I am not a trained midwife, though there is the possibility of being invited to a birth in the near future. But I have been a witness to fresh life in another form. Creativity is the natal moment that reflects God, who is the Creator of us all. Frankly it is like a sunrise with no threat of blindness. Each child feels the dawn of a possibility, then works it through with pins and scissors and my faithful machine Goldy. She gasps with the miracle of having made something. Something that only minutes before was sleeping cloth. 

 

So God created mankind in his own image,
    in the image of God he created them;
    male and female he created them.

God saw all that he had made, and it was very good.

-Genesis 1