One little French girl is so dear, equally mingling the stubborness of doing things her way, with disregard to instruction, and an infantile fragileness and incomprehension toward relevant one and two year old developments. As I go about my day, diapering, playing, feeding and just being a presence, I frequently scoop her into my arms, kiss her forehead and tell her she is my 'Lovie'. The first few months she stood with blankness on her face, but eventually started smiling back, then slowly started integrating the use of the word when she was around me whether hurt or out of curiosity. She would stand before me, straight faced and searching, saying "Lovie". I would reassure her that yes, she was my 'Lovie' and plant my kiss on her forehead.
A few weeks ago in freezing weather, I pushed the children on a buggy ride instead of playing on the playground. Although they were overbundled according to the other staff, I had wrapped them well and covered them in blankets. In addition to my precaution, the moment we stepped outside, I checked every child's face to see their reaction to the cold. The little French girl was not breathing, and had gone as stiff as a board. I locked my eyes onto hers, got her out of the seat and held her sheltered in my arms until she regained her breath. Placing her into a different seat where she and I could see each other and after nesting her entire head with my wrap, leaving an eye slit, we resumed our walk, eyes locked. I smiled the entire trip, talking and pointing out several beautiful things, stopping every five minutes to be even nearer and 're-check' her, but all she could do was seek my face in reassurance until the ride was over. Since then, I have monitored her carefully outside to reassure her that her well-being and comfort is continually my focus.
This week, while playing outside in 20 degree weather, the children were having difficulty keeping mittens on in their attempts to move about and grasp sleds and other snow toys. Her mittens had somehow come off and due to her ultra sensitive nerves, she was crying like a six month old who is in severe pain. My heart was immediately anguished for her and I wanted to swoop like a hawk and rescue her, but a teacher from another classroom stepped in, marched her over to a chair and told her that she had to rest her body since she was supposed to keep her gloves on. The little girl was unconsoleable, frozen, and unable to comprehend what the other teacher was saying. The whole time she was following me with her eyes crying out "Lovie" to me. My heart was so broken.
I realized at that instant, that GOD sees us like this every day. In anguish we seek relief. Is GOD busy or ignoring us or glad we are getting punishment? NEVER. I felt more tender and endeared for this child who was dealing with punishment than I ever have in moments of colour crayons and paint brushes. We can trust GOD to watch over us, love us, have compassion on our frailties, and allow hardships so that we will call out to Him as our Father, "Lovie, come help me!". I was so grateful for this glimpse of GOD's grace.
After this little girl's sentence was served, her gloves were put back on and her feet made their way to my side. Where else could my arms go but enveloping her body as her tears subsided. Once again I kissed her forehead and reassured her that she was my 'Lovie'. Sweeter still is that she stays near my ever-watchful gaze! What a delight it is to be called on for help!
How much more wonderful is a GOD who is perfect in His ever-watchful presence as Comforter.
I Peter 5:7 'Casting all your care on Him, for He cares for you.'
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