Let the Little Children Come

Lullabies played in the background, and I shuffled quietly around the children drifting off to sleep as I gathered my things for my lunch break. I turned the light off, pulled the door closed, waved to my assistant, and left the school for my car.

There were dried tears on the shoulder of my shirt from when someone realized they’d left their teddy bear at home, somebody’s apple juice spilled on my pants, and my head pulsating from a headache. Teaching preschool isn’t for the faint of heart, but I wouldn’t trade it. In a world that despises children, it’s a small way I can say to them: “You are loved. You are wanted. You are welcome. Apple juice stains and all.”

Sitting in the car, I leaned my head back against the head rest and exhaled before grabbing my phone from my purse. There was a text from my Momma.

“Roe v. Wade was overturned! Now we pray state leaders will be led to save lives!”

I sat there in my hot car, sweat mingling with the drying apple juice on my pants and felt the tears come.

I never thought I’d live to see today. I never thought I’d see a text like that. I never thought I’d be walking back into work this afternoon, knowing that there was something so big being done to stop the slaughter of heartbeats just like the ones pumping blood through the bodies that brought me spilled apple juice, tears over a teddy bear, and a headache.

Lord, we praise Your name and we beg that You bring more. More life. More spilled apple juice on clothes. More shoulders that welcome little tears. More teddy bears to be loved and worn thin at the ears. More splitting headaches after days spent opening arms to the smallest. More evidence that the children of this country are loved, valued, respected, and alive.

Because just like the book I read to my class this morning said, “A person is a person. No matter how small.”

Lord, we praise Your name.

Let the little children come.