Indeed, the only truly serious questions are ones that even a child
can formulate. Only the most naive of questions are truly serious.
They are the questions with no answers.
― Milan Kundera
My 3-year-old niece (That's her down below. Cute, huh?) has hit that questioning stage. You know the one—she's trying to figure out how her world works, so everything elicits a question. Everything. I spent a day with her recently, and I think my favorite of all her questions was this one: "Aunt Susan, how did you get to be Susan?" Now really, how do you answer that one!?
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| At Grandma's Last Summer |
Most of her questions felt random. But a few followed a definite theme. I must have been in a good mood, because this particular theme made me smile. Allow me to paraphrase three separate conversations I had with her in the space of less than 24 hours:
Her: Aunt Susan, do you have kids?
Me: No. I don't.
*****
Her: Aunt Susan, where are your kids?
Me: They're still with Heavenly Father.
Her: But why?
Me: Well, I don't have a daddy for them yet, so they have to wait.
*****
Her [again]: Aunt Susan, do you have kids?
Me [again]: Nope. I don't.
Her: Why not?
Me: I don't know. It just hasn't worked out that way.
Her [with genuine concern and some confusion]: But.... you're supposed to be having kids.
Oh, I know sweetheart, I know....
"How did you get to be Susan?" That's deep!
ReplyDeleteAlso, I would like you to have an answer for that one. It might help me figure out my own answer! :)