When I was pregnant with my first child, I remember reflecting on Jesus words when he said that the kingdom of heaven belonged to the likes of children. I am also a strong proponent of the butterfly effect in chaos theory whereby the subtle flutter of a butterflies wings can affect a weather system a thousand miles away…its the subtle small things often overlooked that are so important in a child’s development. I believe it was and still is my job, then, to create an environment for my children that would help them develop their true potential (I really did think that way…the world in my head is exhausting). As any parent knows, raising a child is a daunting job in the best of times, often rife with unexpected obstacles along the way. While truly delightful, my oldest, an unconventional, extraverted, highly intelligent free spirit wasn’t always easy to guide along their path, considering the world we live in often doesn’t appreciate the unconventional and tries to pigeon hole children into certain restrictive molds…and mine would have none of that. My second child, in personality was nothing like his sibling. Anything I thought I could use with my first in raising my second was tossed out the window. He was introverted and cautious, never felt the need to talk much (of course he could hardly get a word in edgewise at our house), was single minded, an adept athlete, an animal lover with a sharp sense of humor and deep sense of empathy. In a highly competitive world where bluster often is represented as talent, he quietly forged his own way on his own merits.

While the initial conditions of each child were demonstrably different…I did desire my little butterflies to shape their own path, keeping their inner spirits as intact as possible. In a household full of testosterone, it was always a challenge for me to navigate the polarities on the masculinity spectrum. The odd one out, I often struggled to understand that particular language…I failed a lot of the time. But I do know this, if anyone or anything tried to harm them in any way, this is was where I would step in (and my husband too, don’t want to forget him). While I am a pacifist…there is no question in my mind that if anyone tried to harm either of my children I could exert a great deal of pain, especially with my velociraptor like rhetoric (never underestimate the power of words, especially spoken low and slow without blinking…the nuns taught me that). I am small, just over 5 feet, and both my children are 6 feet and above and can certainly hold their own, but at 30 and 28…they are just beginning to shape the weather in the world and I am still driven by the innocence they were born with, and have faith that it still remains intact deep within them and will fight to the death to protect it.

I chose a painting I did of a little Hispanic girl because I think we forget about the beauty that lies within all children. The Kingdom of God belongs to her as much as mine, and her little butterfly wings are so very fragile that I hope they aren’t crushed by the rampant racism, and fear that comes with having a different color skin before she is able to shape the future weather of our world. I’m sure her parents would do whatever it took to bring her to a safe place too. Let this be a gentle reminder then, having faith in a child’s needs means helping to keep in tact the innocence and beauty they were born with.