Moment in Time

“Do you like this?” the friendly twelve year old asked me as she sat down beside me in church. She was pointing to the decorative bobby pin holding back her somewhat unruly hair. I told her it was cute; I could see it had some kind of ornamentation on it. Then she removed it and held it up to me for a closer look, so I put on my glasses. Oh, my! That was a skull and crossbones design!

The child had recently started coming to church on her own, sometimes bringing her 11-year-old sister and little brother with her. A pudgy, sweet, pre-teen, she was very interested in the services, often making frank, guileless prayer requests for her parents, pets, or something else that concerned her. Since I have granddaughters about her age, my heart went out to her (who could resist her warm hugs, friendly shoulder pats and obvious need for affection?).

I thought of her the other day in Walmart and picked up a card of four fancy bobby pins, each decorated with a sparkling rhinestone. I found a small “Thinking of You” card in a drawer at home, enclosed them and gave them to her at church yesterday. She was elated! She promptly removed her Sunday School papers from her seat and came and sat by me. (Since my husband spends most of his time on the platform accompanying the music with his guitar, I welcomed a seat mate.)

Last night she wore the sparkling bobby pin to the evening service, telling me she had shared the other set with her sister, who was also there that night. Both wore huge, dangling earrings. “Is this a tambourine song?” she questioned, holding the instrument tentatively as we were asked to turn to “Love Lifted Me.” I had noticed the lady in front of me turning to her in a previous service, showing her how to lay the tambourine on her lap and strike it gently. I told her maybe it was at the chorus, so that’s how she played it.

Despite the girl’s wriggling and occasional distraction, I enjoyed sitting with her. Very articulate, she gave a “praise report” of repaired air conditioning that had gone out at home during our heat wave. I couldn’t help but admire her perfectly spaced sentences and dramatic pauses. Speaking would surely be one of her strengths. During the offering, she confided in a chagrined whisper that she had forgotten her tithes.

“Where was that scripture found?” she asked me at pertinent moments; I looked at the paper she’d been drawing hearts on with my initials and words like “God”, “Love”, and “Salvation” and saw that she was carefully recording the Bible references the minister read. When my husband came and resumed his seat on the other side of me, she said softly in my ear, “You’re my second parents.” She probably tells everyone that, but maybe I could parent her a little!