A child slipped from her mother's grip & navigated the crowd alone. There were so many people. She made her way to the velvet ropes & crawled underneath. She grabbed hold of the passing dignitary's gown. It was so white & sparkly... Armed men in suits were about to erupt on the scene to retrieve the child when the dignitary raised her hand, signaling them to stop. Her many jeweled bracelets shimmered & clinked down her arm, settling somewhere in the middle. A hush fell among the crowd. No one stirred. The child's mother was horrified, but remained where she was, unsure what to do.
The dignitary bent down to meet the little girl's wide eyes. "Hello", she said, "And what is your name?" The little girl whispered into the dignitary's ear & stood back, beaming. She caught the scent of the dignitary's perfume. It was intoxicating.
It seems the little girl was so enamored with the beauty of the dignitary that what she had whispered in her ear was not in fact her name. The little girl had simply said "You're pretty". The dignitary reflected the girl's smile & touched her face gently. Shimmering bracelets clinked back to her wrist as she rose. "As are you, my dear" she said. The dignitary took the child's hand & walked with her to the end of the line. The little girl felt her heart swell. She thought she might explode from all the excitement! The crowd began to murmer & the mother quickly made her way to the ropes. Apologizing profusely, she exchanged a low bow for the return of her child. The dignitary smiled, acknowledged her with a nod & proceeded to join the rest of her entourage inside.
This is a picture I get when I think of childlike faith. It breaks all protocol. Its unrefined. Its selfless. The little girl in the story saw how beautiful the dignitary was & forgot about her mother, the crowd, the protocol. When asked her name, she even forgot about herself... All that mattered was touching that dress & telling the dignitary how pretty she was. How much more, perhaps, might we aspire to have such faith regarding Christ- to abandon our comfort for even a moment to make our way through the crowd, slip under the velvet ropes & touch the hem of His garment? Who will condemn us? He himself will look us in the eye & know us...