Explaining the tough stuff.....

Nate is a typical three-year-old who chatters nonstop and asks "why?" approximately 327 times daily. I love talking to him and explaining things, and we have had some hilarious conversations! But recently, a few of our conversations have left me feeling a bit inadequate and unsure of my own answers. How exactly am I supposed to explain things like poverty or death to a three-year-old who has no concept of a life less blessed than ours?
As Christmas is fast approaching, we have been preparing with one of our favorite pre-holiday traditions: packing boxes for Operation Christmas Child. For me, it's important that the boys be involved in the packing of our boxes to learn about giving. And, as we've carefully selected toys, school/art supplies, and candies for the boxes, I've purposefully made mention of the children who would be receiving the gifts repeatedly because I want to make sure that the boys are 100% clear that this cool stuff is not for them. And, it's worked just fine. Nate eagerly talks about the little boys "far, far away" who might play with the toy cars and stuffed monkey. More than once, he's asked me "why?", and I've always told him that we send these gifts to children because they aren't going to receive any other gifts. And, that makes perfect sense to him. Why on earth wouldn't we send presents to a kid halfway across the world if he/she isn't going to get anything else? (Actually, it makes perfect sense to me too...)
Today, our conversation got a bit more personal... I was writing a letter to Yonathan, the little boy from El Salvador whom we sponsor through Compassion. Nate asked me a few questions about him, and why I was mailing him the racecar and Christmas stickers. I explained that Yonathan might not get any other gifts for Christmas, and that I thought he might like some stickers. Immediately, Nate sweetly and eagerly suggested that we send him one of our Operation Christmas Child boxes! I gently told him that we couldn't do that (though I dearly wish we could!), although Yonathan may very well receive an Operation Christmas Child box (and who knows? It really could be ours!).
As we continued talking about Yonathan, I pulled out several of his old letters and drawings to show Nate. The crayoned pictures of cars and boats and birds grabbed his attention, and he spent several minutes leafing through the pile. He came to a carefully drawn portrait of three people--Yonathan, his mother, and his baby brother, Cristian. He asked who they were, and I told him....while being acutely aware of the fact that the very next letter in that pile told us of the baby's death. As Nate continued to ask about Yonathan and his family, I told him that Cristian lives in Heaven now with Jesus. It was our first discussion about death, and I wasn't really sure what else to tell him. Predictably, he next question was, "why?" And, I had no answer. I simply explained that I don't know. He accepted the answer, and moved on. But, my adult mind still wasn't satisfied. How do I explain to him that our home and our food and our healthcare and our freedom, and even the very lives of our family members are luxuries denied to millions in this world? For now, I won't. His innocence is beautiful, and I feel no obligation to change it. Eventually, he will understand, and today was only just the beginning of that understanding. He will continue to ask questions, and someday, he might even come face to face with real poverty. It's a sobering thought, but it's reality. For now, I love my boys too much to explain to them how much they truly are blessed beyond measure. But, when they're older? Well, I'll love them too much to let them continue in their naivety. When will that day come? I have no idea, but I know it's a long time away...and I'm more than okay with that.

(Disclaimer - I began writing this post a few weeks ago, but only just now finished it up. That's why our OCC boxes weren't quite packed yet; I assure you that they were finished on time, and are now on their way to their destination(s)!)

Quips from a 3-year-old...

Nate: (counting grapes) "One, two, fwee, five, six!"
Me: "Didn't you forget a number?"
Nate: "Huh?"
Me: "Try counting them again."
Nate: "One, two, fwee, five, six!"
Me: One, two, three, FOUR, five, six!"
Nate: "Aww, man! That's cwazy!"

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Nate: (whispering to Levi) "This soup really yucky in my mouth! This soup really, really yucky! Crackers make it not yucky; crackers make this soup yummy!"
Sadly, we were out of crackers...