Yesterday, as I shared with my kids about the crucifixion of Christ, I wondered how much of it they really understood.
My 4-year old interrupted me by chirping, “Someone helped Jesus carry His cross.”
“What was his name?” I wondered aloud. I myself was trying to remember it.
“Was it Peter?” My 4-year old asked.
“No,” I said.
Then, I saw the look on my 7-year old’s face that made my heart swell. She was blinking back tears as she recollected the scene in her mind, “we watched it in school. The man… he was wearing green.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry because obviously what he wore was inconsequential to the story. But that little detail showed me the intensity of her little heart, that she immersed herself in understanding what it meant.
Blessed Easter.
