I had offered to watch my 3-year-old daughter, Ramanda,
so that my wife could go out with a friend. I was getting
some work done while Ramanda appeared to be having a good
time in the other room. No problem, I figured. But then it
got a little too quiet and I yelled out, "What are you
doing, Ramanda?" No response. I repeated my question and
heard her say, "Oh...nothing." Nothing? What does "nothing"
mean?
I got up from my desk and ran out into the living room,
whereupon I saw her take off down the hall. I chased her up
the stairs and watched her as her little behind made a hard
left into the bedroom. I was gaining on her! She took off
for the bathroom. Bad move. I had her cornered. I told her
to turn around. She refused. I pulled out my big, mean,
authoritative Daddy voice, "Young lady, I said turn around!"
Slowly, she turned toward me. In her hand was what was
left of my wife's new lipstick. And every square inch of her
face was covered with bright red (except her lips of
course)!
As she looked up at me with fearful eyes, lips
trembling, I heard every voice that had been shouted to me
as a child. "How could you...You should know better than
that...How many times have you been told...What a bad thing
to do..." It was just a matter of my picking out which old
message I was going to use on her so that she would know
what a bad girl she had been. But before I could let loose,
I looked down at the sweatshirt my wife had put on her only
an hour before. In big letters it said, "I'M A PERFECT
LITTLE ANGEL!" I looked back up into her tearful eyes and
instead of seeing a bad girl who didn't listen, I saw a
child of God...a perfect little angel full of worth, value
and a wonderful spontaneity that I had come dangerously
close to shaming out of her.
"Sweetheart, you look beautiful! Let's take a picture
so Mommy can see how special you look." I took the picture
and thanked God that I didn't miss the opportunity to
reaffirm what a perfect little angel He had given me.
