Reggie is five years old. He can’t read yet, but he knows how to love.
The word, “love” is used so imprecisely that it has become almost useless with its wildly varied meanings. Psychologists and preachers talk a lot about what we really mean when we use this battered word.
“I love my new Honda Fit”
“I love you. Don’t leave me.”
“All we need is love.”
“Jesus said to love our enemies.”
Here’s Reggie’s example of true love.
Just before Christmas Reggie was out shopping with his dad who was looking for magazines to use as stocking-stuffers.
Suddenly Reggie piped up,
“Dad? Hey, Dad! Look at this.”
“What, Buddy?”
His father looked down to see the little boy pointing at a book of puzzles on the rack.
Reggie’s eager eyes met his Dad’s,
“What’s this called?”
“It’s a Crossword puzzle”
“I saw these at Grandma’s house. She said that it’s her favourite game to play. Can we get it for her?”
No one had told Reggie to find a Christmas present for his grandmother. He had no idea what a crossword puzzle was, nor why anyone would find fun in it. He simply recognized the black and white grid on the store shelf as something his grandmother enjoyed, and he spontaneously wanted to give her what he knew would make her happy. Imagine her delighted surprise when she heard the story of her little one’s selfless choice, thoughtful beyond what many adults can manage.
Surely this is the kind of love that Jesus meant.
Who knew a kindergarten child could serve as a lighthouse lamp, guiding our spirits through life’s puzzling darkness? Reggie’s ‘other-love’ shows the way.
