By Kathleen Kjolhaug
The Little Troubadours Twas a Saturday evening just around supper time, and rather than crowd around the table to eat, the little troubadours made their way into the pew sitting directly in front of us. No sermon was spoken. In fact, not a word was exchanged between us. They lived their convictions and the generational testimony of faith—spoke.
The four tumbled around throughout the service. Grandpa and grandma stood guard like bookends as they helped keep everyone upright-so-tospeak. Distractions were pulled from an extra bag brought by mama as blankets, books, and quiet toys brought comfort. A shoulder now and again was freely given which offered respite for those who needed a little more.
Siblings for sure, I thought, as one couldn’t miss the white blonde hair sprouting atop each head.
The intensity of the bonding taking place was on full display as one managed to irritate a squeal or two from the other every so oft.
Mama glowed as she smiled into the eyes of each one from time-to-time. Her reassuring touch upon their backs brought comfort to those who longed for more security and at several points throughout the service, the two youngest ended up in her arms simultaneously. It was apparent they gleaned as much comfort from one another as they did from her.
Most notable was the way the two older children were drawn to the third. Number three’s soft smile when making tender eye contact with those looking on was evidence of one gifted with personality plus. Not only was this child equipped with a matching shirt like child number four, but sported a snazzy buzz cut, fun sandals, and cool dude shorts. One could not miss the love and attention given by each one—to each one.
Notable, too, were the slant of the eyes, the shorter fingers, and the overall look of a child with Down syndrome. The sermon was on mute as they lived love by bringing life to one another.
Passing on love to those created in His image was paramount, and the deep tenderness shown to one another went well beyond words.
At a time when some countries appear to be “curing” this genetic trait by eliminating those with it, is the exact time when others around the world are receiving with open arms the blessings given. Whispering perspective might bring pause to this cause. After all, when little ones to Him belong know how to build a world of compassion by finding joy in the gift given—perhaps adults might learn a thing or two. And, if adults can learn a thing or two, perhaps governments run by adults might be able to learn a thing or two.
Colossians 1:27 sheds Light. “To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.”
What beautiful words to live by. And, if one day, adults still don’t understand the cause for pause in all life given, then perhaps - just perhaps - little ones will have to grow up to be those adults who teach us all. Amen.
