I remember being in the nursery once. There was a little girl there who obviously struggled with fine motor skills. She came in with a woman I didn't recognize but was clearly not her mother. As soon as the woman sat the girl down on the floor, she turned her attention to the other women in the room. She spent the entire hour talking about the disabilities of this sweet little girl on the floor. The girl looked as if she understood the conversation was about her and was shamed by it. No one seemed to notice.
I turned my attention to the girl who was delighted that someone was engaging her. We started to build a tower with blocks. I put down the first block and then another. Then I gave a block to her. She was smart, she knew exactly what to do but her poor little hands would hardly obey her. She slowly moved a quivering hand towards a block on the floor, wrapped her quaking, little fingers around it one finger at a time and then lifted it up into the air with lines of effort streaking her face. It took perhaps 5 minutes for her to maneuver the block above the two I had already placed and lower it onto the stack. Her whole body poured into the effort of holding still while she let the block go.
Then the room lit up with the beaming of her smile. She was so very proud of herself.
So amazing aren't they, those sweet little hands, those sweet little faces, so honest and open and needy. It so reminds me of why God wants us to come to him as children. And for a child to be shamed, wow...I bet that made our Jesus cry...
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