A mother’s love
Part of restoring myself to better health is doing cardio exercise at the local hospital. That room is situated on the top floor, facing north. From that vantage one can see all entrances into the parking lot. Today, as I was watching, there is a set of steps leading west, from the hospital entrance, back to the parking lot. The door opened and out popped a six year old girl who just received her flight/wings. Her arms were pumping, her tennis shoes were locked into high gear — flashing tidy-white in the sunlight. Her long hair was flowing off the shoulders and she appeared not to have a care in the world. The mother was having a conversation with someone on the walkway but when she saw what the child was doing, running pell-mell for the street, she was a step behind her with arm outstretched in a frantic effort to gain control of this furious flight. Across 30 feet of walkway and up a flight of stairs, it was a classic scene that was as humorous as it was dangerous. It was a vision that only Norman Rockwell could paint. I was impressed with the speed of both persons: the child, with freedom to run and the mother running with her arm outstretched grabbing at anything within her reach. The girl beat her mother to the roadway but she got corralled in the middle; with a scolding from mom (I think). During this chase from 300 feet away I was shouting, “Go Momma, Go!” I know she didn’t hear me but she made the grab and that youthful flying-filly was hauled up short. Even though a car could have been coming along that stretch, it was thankfully vacant at that moment. Jesus had a compassionate love for all children, even this one. At the end of a day’s preaching, Jesus’ work was not done as the children and mothers would be waiting for Him. It was a custom of that day, if there was a preacher in town, he would set up shop and bless the little children. It was said by many who knew Him that His eyes could pierce the coldest heart, revealing a glimpse of God. What mother wouldn’t want their child to sit on His lap and be blest? Like Jesus, this mother did not want her child to get hurt. The mother’s interfering action was a blessing in itself.