Sunday, April 21, 2013
They're usually really well-behaved (not so when I first started taking them, or maybe now I don't care so much what other people think if they whisper too loudly or Cade drives his truck across the person in front of us). Jackson usually reads a book or does a puzzle, but keeps to himself.
However, when it's time for the sign of peace (when everyone shakes hands and says, "Peace be with you," Jackson jumps up, ready for action. The church is pretty empty, so you have to lean over at least one vacant row to even shake hands with anyone.
For the past two weeks, he has strolled out of the pew, three rows back, over to the family in back of us, shakes all of their hands, CROSSES THE AISLE, shakes a few hands over there, then heads back to our row.
This morning I looked over and saw his upturned face, reaching up to give a kiss to a 95-year old (maybe older), shaky, very old, woman. His skin - so smooth, pure and innocent, against hers - really worn, wrinkled and wise.
Every time I think of this moment, my heart is warmed. I hope hers is too.