The Wisdom of a Three Year Old

I raised two children, so I didn't think baby-sitting a 3-year-old in my home for a few days would be a huge revelation. But my children are in their twenties, and my memories of them at three are somewhat blurred by my memories of them at four, five, six, and so on. It's been a while.

Ariel was only here for three sleepovers, but I learned a lot in that short time. 

1. "Why?" is the best question ever. 

I'm sure I'm not the first person to realize that three-year-olds ask "Why?" a lot ... A lot, a lot, a lot, a lot. "Why?" really is a good question -- because it usually gets you the who, what, where, when, and even how of it as well.

     "Why you have that necklace?"
               "Because it was my grandmother's." 
     "Why you have your grandmother's necklace?"
               "Because I loved her, and it helps me remember her now that she's not here."
     "But why your grandmother have that necklace?"
               "Because it was pretty, and my grandfather gave it to her. She wore it all the time."
     "Where's Mr. Johnny?"

I found that most of the why trails ended in a totally unconnected question from Ariel (indicating that she was bored), or in a just because from me (indicating that I was worn out or had run out of answers). I always felt like I had won the game when she gave up before I did. Yes. I competed with a 3-year-old. My kids will tell you that this is nothing new.

I think we grown ups waste a lot of time coming up with just the right questions to ask God, when a simple why would do the trick. The truth is, we don't always understand his ways -- so we ask and ask and ask. Sometimes he answers patiently, teaching us the what, where, when, and how of it. But he never competes with us, and many times he just says, "Because." His because is a lot more powerful than mine. His because usually provides us with the who of it. His because is "I am." When we get to his because, we rest. Because his because is sufficient.

2. Brave girls leap, but sometimes they just need to be carried.

Ariel and I walked to school on Thursday. It's only a few blocks, but there is much to see and discuss

Step on one of these and you'll never forget it.

along the way. It is the season of buck moth caterpillars, and it's always important to warn the little ones about the sting associated with these pervasive creatures.

I warned. Ariel was scared.

We talked about how much bigger and faster than the caterpillars she is.

She said she was scared anyway.

I said that brave girls just leap when they're afraid.

We had fun leaping over caterpillars for a long stretch of sidewalk -- then we turned the corner and she saw another long block of sidewalk before her. I'm sure she was thinking about all the caterpillars yet to be leapt over when she stopped in her tracks and held up her arms. I knew that the time for brave girls leaping had come to an end.

We grown-ups tend to think we have to keep on being brave and leaping forever. But sometimes the sidewalk seems to stretch on forever and the caterpillars seem to outnumber us a million to one. There is no shame in holding up our arms and saying, "Pick me up." Take it from a 3-year-old.

3. Sweet is smart, grumpy isn't.

We have two cats. One is somewhat cantankerous, and it was important to teach Ariel not to mess with her. She learned fast. "Chloe is sweet. Elsie is grumpy."

After testing the truth of my words and learning for herself, she started saying, "Elsie is really, really, really grumpy. Chloe is smart."

I tried to correct her. I said that both cats were smart, but Chloe was sweet-smart and Elsie was grumpy- smart. Ariel just looked at me like I wasn't very smart at all, and went off to look for Chloe.

I realized she had a point. A grumpy cat does not get patted and played with and doesn't get to eat crumbs from a little girl's plate. It sounds to me like being sweet is much smarter than being grumpy.

Anger, bitterness, touchiness, grumpiness -- these things accomplish little that is worth having. We think we will teach someone a lesson with our grumpiness, but it never works out that way. "The anger of man does not achieve the righteousness of God" (James 1:20) -- nor does it achieve the happiness of cats.

4. Love draws near.

Ariel loves a lot of things.

Among them...

Books. Miss Mary's church. Pink and Purple straws. Ellie, Caroline, and Suzie. Tea parties. Cinnamon biscuits. Yo-grit (but not the kind of yogurt I buy). Her bear. Chloe-the-cat.

After we read three or four or six books each night, Ariel asked to keep all of them in bed with her. "I love that book!" she declared. The next morning, when I asked her what she dreamed about, she said, "Books!" I don't know if she really dreamed about books. They were at the foot of her bed, so they were the first thing she saw and the first thing she thought about when she woke up.

Ariel declares her love enthusiastically. It seems to be her way of asking for what she loves.  Saying, "I love fruit snacks," may just get her some fruit snacks. It's always worth a try.

Ariel also assumes that those who keep close to her love her. She was thrilled when Chloe-the-cat followed her and circled around her. "She loves me!" she delighted.

Because Ariel loved Chloe, she wanted to be sure that Chloe had what Chloe loved at all times. She enjoyed gathering all of the cat toys and putting them near the cat. "Chloe loves her balls," she would explain. NOTE: no amount of explaining could convince Ariel that the catnip balls were Elsie's as well. Apparently sweet cats do not have to share with grumpy cats. See lesson #3. 

Ariel's mom had drawn a chart to count the days. We crossed off school, sleeps, and things like church and tea parties. In the last square of the chart was the day her parents would come back. She's three, so naturally she asked why they were coming back. By the third sleep, she was answering this one herself, "Because they love me."

Ariel knows that laps are the best place to sit. "Why you sitting over there?" she asked at breakfast. Great logic. Why in the world would anyone want to waste time eating breakfast in her own chair when there is an empty lap nearby?

Love dreams. Love declares. Love follows. Love provides. Love comes back. Love draws near. I love love!

Having a three-year-old in the house for a few days was eye-opening in many ways. It reminded me of what it means to come to Jesus as a little child. Seeking. Asking. Accepting. Loving.