Out of the Mouths of Babes: "And I want it back!"

“O Lord, our Lord, how awesome is your name through all the earth! I will sing of your majesty above the heavens with the mouths of babes and infants...^”(Psalm 8:2-3)

Decades ago, Art Linkletter hosted a television program that featured interviews with children, in a segment called “Kids Say the Darndest Things.”

I’ve been thinking that Jesus likely could write a book, too, as Linkletter did, on the darndest things that kids say--kids of all ages, kids from all places, starting with the children He drew to Himself.

Kids being kids, I’m sure some of those whose mothers brought them to Jesus, no doubt, had some very comical questions and comments. (What were His favorite things children said might be a question to ask the Lord in the next life!)

On a serious note, children say some pretty amazingly, profoundly Truthful things—even if they do so unaware of the implications of what they’re saying. I think that’s what the line from Scripture reminds us:

“O Lord, our Lord, how awesome is your name through all the earth! I will sing of your majesty above the heavens with the mouths of babes and infants...^” (Psalm 8:2-3)

Actually, it shouldn’t surprise us that God would use children to teach His Word. St. Paul reminds us that God uses the weak (Cf. 1Corinthinas 1:27), and Jesus Himself tells us to become like little children in our receptivity of God’s Mercy—His Kingdom (Cf. Matthew 18:3).

Jesus Himself referred to Psalm 8--to the praise that comes from the “mouths of babes and infants.” He quoted those words when the chief priests and the scribes protested that the children were crying out in the temple area, “Hosanna to the Son of David,” in response to the “wondrous things” the Lord was doing (Cf. Matthew 21: 14-16).

Grownups are “supposed” to do the teaching—the catechizing, but if we grownups listen carefully to what our children are saying, we might hear gems of wisdom, as well as legitimate admonitions. In their innocence, their speech can be pure nonsense or pure wisdom…God can use them to teach us; to deliver His message!

Yes, it is true that God entrusts the formation of our children (His children!) to us adults. God appoints parents to be the first spiritual teachers of their children. Interestingly, as a parent, catechist, and a public school teacher, I’ve found that, reciprocally, children educate us in spiritual matters, too!

That’s what I’d like to celebrate in this series of articles, tied together by the same title (“Out of the Mouths of Babes”) and the same photo image. As with all the stories in this series, the subtitle distinguishes each story.

Quoting children, this series is meant to celebrate God’s Mercy. Quoting children, this series is meant to highlight how the words of children, whether they realize it or not, can contribute to the spiritual growth of their parents or other adults. Sometimes our own the words, recalled from childhood, can have the same effect, too!

With few exceptions, the children’s words that form the basis of this series were words I heard directly from the mouths of children. Here is the first word-story, which is one of the few exceptions. It was my husband who recounted the child’s words that gave me hope at a time I was feeling rather hopeless.

“This is my commandment: love one another as I love you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15: 12-13)

My husband was facing his second open heart surgery in ten years. Given that he had code-blued before the start of the first surgery (to correct a congenital heart defect) when he was ten years younger, I was feeling more than a little skeptical that he would survive. (There were other reasons for my skepticism; reasons that likely will form the bases for other articles).

In the weeks before his surgery, my husband shared his concern about a sixth grader whose mother had died. In addition to that trauma, the child’s father had sent him to live in a neighboring town with his aunt, and there was some discussion of foster care.

Long story short—when the child returned to school, the counselors encouraged him to use a pebble “fidget,” which he kept in his pocket to help him cope with his anxiety. On more than one occasion when he went, with his teachers’ permission, to talk with my husband, the child showed him his “lucky pebble,” which, according to my husband, the child seemed to cling to for dear life.

Although I had never met the child, nor seen the “lucky” pebble, I felt as if I knew both of them. And so, when my husband came home from an emotional last day of school the afternoon before he was set to enter the hospital the next morning, he emptied his pockets of keys and change, and then showed me a smooth, multi-hued pebble.

With no explanation or comment other than this, my husband repeated verbatim what the child had told him:

“I want you to have my lucky pebble,” the child said, handing him the pebble. “And I want it back!”

“And I want it back!”

During the weeks leading up to the surgery, many people had offered both of us encouragement. I have to say that the generosity of that child, matched by his trust, was life-giving. In those five words, the child had given me hope that my husband would survive the surgery; that he would live to return the lucky pebble to its generous owner.

Could the child have simply wished my husband well as did all the other children? Of course he could have. Somehow, for some reason, God gave him the desire and the strength to express his well-wishes in a most sacrificial way. And knowing the great sacrifice that the child made gave me hope that God would not disappoint him—his trust that he would get his lucky pebble back. For the sake of that child’s sacrificial love, I trusted that God would not let my husband die.

Following surgical complications, my husband did not return to school for more than one month. For one month, the child was without his life-giving “lucky pebble.” Imagine the sacrifice that child made.

Truthfully, it always seemed curious to me that a child would name a pebble “lucky,” when the pebble was helping him cope with his mother’s death. In any case, that pebble was lucky! Not in a superstitious sense, but in the “blessed”/fortunate sense. We were very blessed by that child’s sacrifice. His simple act of faith gave us faith that the surgery would be a success.

For the child’s sake, as much as for ours, I am grateful to God that the child got his lucky pebble back, from the hands of the one to whom he had entrusted it. God bless that child, now a young man.

“This is my commandment: love one another as I love you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15: 12-13)

Only God knows when our mission is over. I prayed that my husband’s mission was not going to end in that surgery. I dreaded the specter of being the one to have to return that lucky pebble. Fortunately, by the Grace of God, I didn’t have to.

In the Comment section, please share examples of live-giving words a child shared with you.