A little story about my 3-yr-old son, Zooey (rhymes with Huey, Dewey and Louie).

The other day, he was corrected for taking a toy away from the baby and instructed to wait until she gave it to him voluntarily. Being 3.5, this was not an easy thing for him. He attempted to say please, but the baby just smiled up at him and continued sucking on the item without a bit of concern for his eagerness. He tried to negotiate for my interference, thinking I could take the toy away if he couldn't, but I refused. That triggered some tears, and he threw himself on his bed, covered his head with his pillow and sobbed, "I don't want to cry! I don't want to be sad!"

Since I want him to face these little difficulties calmly, I started to say, "I don't want you to be sad, either..." But Zooey popped up on his knees and glowered at me, "I'm not talking to you, I'm talking to God!" Then he dove under his pillow again to finish wrestling it out.

I was so pleased that Zooey thinks enough of God to want to turn to Him when he is feeling bad, I decided to help him out. As soon as he sat up again, I found another intriguing toy and made it dance on the floor until the baby dropped the one Zooey wanted and crawled over to give mine a taste. Then Zooey swept up the coveted toy and everybody was happy again.

The process of teaching Zooey to wait his turn cheerfully is far from over, but seems like he's already learning that God cares about him, and I'm so glad for that. It's something I never had as a child.

--Sparki