Hard Questions

Question Mark Graffiti

Question Mark Graffiti (Photo credit: Bilal Kamoon)

We had a small “incident” last week.  My two littles, four and six were playing
with friends in a rarely trafficked area.  They were throwing the frisbee, and
it landed in the street where there was usually no one driving.  As my four year
old little guy, the Moose, ran over to pick it up, a car came around from where
it had been parked out of sight.  His sister, Princess, ran over to grab him up,
at the same time waving frantically for the car to stop.  Their older friends
assured me it wasn’t a close call, but Princess was in tears from the adrenaline
and from being afraid she was in trouble.  After hugs and reassuring she was
much better.

Later that night she needed some more reassurance that she
had done the right thing and wasn’t in trouble.  The house was quiet.  Little
brother was asleep, big sister was upstairs, it was just the two of us.

“Mama, isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?  Keep somebody you love
from getting hurt?”

“Yes, baby, you’re not in trouble.  It’s
okay.”

“Mama?”

“Hmmmm?”

“What if there’s a bad
person–someone who did something wrong, really bad–what if they’re about to
get hurt?  Should you save them from getting hurt?”

Wow.

I was
speechless.  Ummm, of course?  I don’t know?  No?  I think I mumbled something
about that being a hard thing to think about, and that we should help all
people, but really–what do I believe here?  What is the right
answer?

Sometimes there’s no easy answer to the hard questions. Sometimes
there’s no answer at all.

And sometimes we have to let go and be okay
with that.

3 thoughts on “Hard Questions

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