Saturday, June 09, 2007
Got this off Kristy's blog.
She draws. Tiny fingers run across the paper jerking at intervals. Her pencil surrenders to every twist and turn. The final markings are imprinted and it is completed. Gushing with excitement, Molly walks, and even attempts running, as quick as her tiny legs can transport her to her brother’s side.
“That’s a weird looking noodle,” he says while poking his finger at her drawing.
“It is not weird, and it is not a noodle,” she replies in defense of her work.
“Then what is it?” he challenges her.
She pauses. Slowly and deliberately, she replies, “It’s a flower.”
“Hah! Please, a flower does not look like that at all. It’s more likely a noodle”, he retorts.
“I say it’s a flower,” affirms the younger now slightly irritated.
Grandpa, witnessing the whole event intervenes before the boy gets to reply. Squatting to Molly’s level and looking her in the eye he enquires, “So Pumpkin, why is it a flower? Why not a noodle?”
She loves it when he does that. She knows now that she has his attention and in all honesty she replies, “Well, simply because I drew it and I say it’s a flower. Others may call it all they want but it will always be a flower.”
“Can’t argue with that can you?” he asks rhetorically. He pauses before proceeding, “So Molly, who created you?”
“God,” was the reply, instant and confident.
“Alright”, he continues, “if so, then... what are you?”
A long silence ensues. Ready to speak she answers, "Give me a second, I’ll go ask Him.”
Only the Creator defines His creation.
She draws. Tiny fingers run across the paper jerking at intervals. Her pencil surrenders to every twist and turn. The final markings are imprinted and it is completed. Gushing with excitement, Molly walks, and even attempts running, as quick as her tiny legs can transport her to her brother’s side.
“That’s a weird looking noodle,” he says while poking his finger at her drawing.
“It is not weird, and it is not a noodle,” she replies in defense of her work.
“Then what is it?” he challenges her.
She pauses. Slowly and deliberately, she replies, “It’s a flower.”
“Hah! Please, a flower does not look like that at all. It’s more likely a noodle”, he retorts.
“I say it’s a flower,” affirms the younger now slightly irritated.
Grandpa, witnessing the whole event intervenes before the boy gets to reply. Squatting to Molly’s level and looking her in the eye he enquires, “So Pumpkin, why is it a flower? Why not a noodle?”
She loves it when he does that. She knows now that she has his attention and in all honesty she replies, “Well, simply because I drew it and I say it’s a flower. Others may call it all they want but it will always be a flower.”
“Can’t argue with that can you?” he asks rhetorically. He pauses before proceeding, “So Molly, who created you?”
“God,” was the reply, instant and confident.
“Alright”, he continues, “if so, then... what are you?”
A long silence ensues. Ready to speak she answers, "Give me a second, I’ll go ask Him.”
Only the Creator defines His creation.
# posted by kelseykatrina @ 11:15 pm 
