A Child’s Eyes

The Dusty Cactus
We have had the pleasure of our grandsons’ company, one at a time over the past two weekends. Saturday, while Cadence was visiting, he and I went for a walk in our neighborhood.

He is fascinated by our neighbor’s cactus garden, which you can see in this photo from a visit last year. (If he were with me as I write this, he would urge me to inform you that he’s a Big Boy now. A year ago, when the photo was taken, he was still a Little Boy.)

He examines the cactus closely. I listen and learn.

“Lala, ” he says. “This one is hairy like a horse.”

“Only the dusty cactus have spikes. The clean cactus are safe.”

His examination of the cactus continues. I fight back the impulse to encourage him to move along. We have no appointment to keep. He could study the cactus for hours. I strain to remember the value in these rambling walks to no particular destination, draw some patience from the well of grandmotherhood.

“Here’s a clean cactus. Can I touch it?”

He reaches out with a small index finger and traces a pattern on the cactus’ meaty pad. “It feels like green,” he reports. “Green is my favorite color. And I like orange and purple and yellow and red.”

“What’s that?” he exclaims as we hear a rustle in the leaves. And we’re off to visit another neighbor’s chickens.

One of the chief joys of grandchildren, I’ve concluded, is the opportunity to see Creation through new eyes.

25 Long ago You laid the foundation of the earth

and made the heavens with Your hands.
26 They will perish, but You remain forever;
they will wear out like old clothing.
You will change them like a garment
and discard them.
27 But You are always the same;
You will live forever.
28 The children of Your people
will live in security.
Their children’s children
will thrive in Your presence.”
Psalm 102:25-28 (NLT)