I'm folding laundry when my six- and three-year-olds come flitting into the bedroom like a pair of butterflies. They swirl around the room laughing and chattering. Fluttering onto my bed, they immediately turn it into their personal playground inventing various ways to slide or tumble off the frameless mattress onto a futon spread next to it on the floor.
"Mom," my six-year-old says after a few minutes.
"I'm like a Spartan. Do you know why?"
"I just hurt my bottom, but I'm not complaining."
We high-five it, and the she floats away to her next adventure leaving me again in wonder at the expansive mind of a first-grader.
Her comment today has been one of several showings of insight over the school year as we've been reading through both the Bible and ancient history narratives.
In fall, when she was still five and we were studying Ancient Egypt, she came into the office to announce: "Mama, when Tutankhamen's father tried to get everyone to believe in just one god instead of many, I think God was just a tiny bit happy."
And last week, as we've been reading about the the Ancient Greeks and their gods, she pronounced with zeal, "I would NEVER, EVER worship false gods or idols."
Then there was the day we were driving around town and she started a conversation on God's view of money—whether He wants us to be rich or poor or just have what we need. Even the three-year-old chimed in with his opinion. (Later my daughter informed me that she wants to make some of her bead necklaces for the poor. She is constantly thinking of which of her clothes or toys she can give as well.)
None of these thoughts or comments have been prompted by any lectures, discreet theology lessons, or explicit moral instruction on my part. They all seem to appear out of the blue as my daughter's fertile mind flits over the many narratives and stories we've read together this year.
I don't lecture or moralize because I don't have to. I just let my butterflies loose on the flowers and see what magic unfolds.