The small boy

I was listening intently to my eight-year-old narrate the history of Corrie Ten Boom. Unbeknownst to me, a pair of three-year-old ears was also quite caught up in the story. The narrator explained in detail what I shall merely summarize: Corrie Ten Boom was arrested for hiding Jews in her house.

The gasp beside me attracted my attention. I turned and looked into a pair of big brown eyes, wide open. At the conclusion of the narration, the small listener dared not move. He merely whispered with barely audible trepidation, “Mommy…don’t we have juice in our house?”

Someday, when he is nearer to a man, I will tell him about the horrors of mankind and the agony one man can inflict on others. For now, however, I will maintain that childish sweetness just a little bit longer and offer up a prayer of gratitude that, for the moment at least, America is a free country, and we need not worry about harboring Jews–or juice–in our homes.

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