We were eating dinner when she peeked in from the door which opens to our deck. At just four-years-old, her eyes got wide when she saw all of us around the dinner table. Fumbling with the door knob, she quickly opened the door and burst inside.
“My daddy started a fire in the back yard and we’re going to have marshmallows!” she exclaimed. “You can come over if you want to!”
Around the table were eight of us, ranging in age from 8 to 88. One was a guest she’d never laid eyes on before. Still, she invited all of us to the massive party she envisioned. Everyone was welcome to the feast.
Her parents came to gather her up and when they heard about the giant marshmallow roast, this was news to them. They had no marshmallows.
We laughed. They did, too. But all of us learned something about faith. To a four-year-old, seeing a flame was enough to envision a neighborhood gathered around with marshmallows, s’mores, stories and who knows what else. This is faith.
As we get older, we see a fire and before we realize it, we’re thinking about how to make sure it is extinguished by the end of the evening.
Given a choice then, whenever we see a fire, perhaps we should be more like a four-year-old girl; ready to fan the flames and grab our marshmallows.
Update . . . That night her parents went to the store, and bought marshmallows. Let the party begin.