During Saturday morning cuddle time, Keilah tells me:
“Mommy, I can’t wait to become an entomologist. An explorer like Nancy Drew but studying bugs. That’s why I’ve been practicing on the monkey bars everyday at school. Because, you know, I might see a bug on a tree someday that’s about to fly off, and I have to be able to climb the tree and swing from one branch to another one so I can get to it.”
“And I’m glad that I know how to pull weeds because a bug might bury itself in the ground, and I can pull the weed, get to the bug, and put it in my terrarium so I can study it.” (About a month ago, she had gone on an outreach with David, pulling weeds at people’s yards, so she now thinks she’s an expert weed-puller).
Though she’s changed her mind about what she wants to be when she grows up as often as her daddy changed majors in college, she’s been pretty adamant on becoming an entomologist. I’m so not into bugs (read, they give me the hibby jibbies) so I don’t get it, but I’ll support her in whatever she wants to do. She matters to me so I want to see her realize her dreams. I want to see her grow up…
It breaks my heart to know that there are children out there who won’t. Like the victims of the VTech tragedy. I know they weren’t children. But each of them was someone’s child, someone’s sister, someone’s parent – who had dreams…
And then there’s Jen Gallacher’s son, Joey, who has terminal cancer. He’s thirteen years old. He should be outside playing, checking out the girls, doing what teenagers do. But he can’t. The doctors said they’ve done all they can. Though we can’t do anything to help those who died at Virginia Tech, we can help Joey. We can pray. And we can give. For as long as he lives, there’s hope. And as long as he lives, he should know that people care. Please, let’s show him. He matters.
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