Let the Children Come

Jesus loves the little chidren, all the children of the world.....

In Israel little ones walk unattended. Most of the time there is a small group

but occasionally you see just one.

On my first trip to Israel I remember seeing a mother pushing a small child in a stroller. 

She was window shopping and parked the child in front of a store window and walked two doors

down to enter an entirely different establishment. I flipped! I wanted to guard the little one from kidnappers and thought, "What kind of mother is this? Why isn't anyone doing anything?"

That's when my friends chuckled and let me know what it's like with the people of this fair land.

"Why would anyone want to hurt a child, why would they want to take it from its mother?" they say.

Everyone looks out for children.

What happened to our world? I long for a society like that but am reminded we live in the

"fallen world".  

My last day in the Old City of Jerusalem rained poured. The term "drenched rat" highly resembled me.

It wasn't glorious or glamorous, I had no umbrella, or hat. My hair dripped but as I ran through the rain in the Arab Quarter I saw three little ones and I stopped. I don't think the oldest was even 5 but she stopped and carefully tied the shoes of her little brother so he wouldn't fall as they also ran through the downpour. It was just a moment but it seemed to freeze in time.

I wanted to grab my camera but knew it would be over too quickly. And really, the camera couldn't catch the joy I felt. It was one of the sweetest moments I witnessed on the trip. I was the silent bystander, they paid me no mind as they ran passed me. I loved seeing that act of kindness among siblings and it was a gift to my soul as I said farewell to the city I love.

I flew out hours later, dry. I remember watching the lights of Tel Aviv fade in the night as we flew over the Mediterranean Sea and though I desperately needed sleep I feared closing my eyes.

I feared forgetting the smells of the city, forgetting the children in the rain, the old Arab man asleep on rugs in his shop. It's why I take a thousand pictures.