God's Creatures

Yesterday I babysat our youngest granddaughter, 7-month-old Miss K. It was a beautiful day, so she and I were out and about quite a bit throughout the day. Here’s what I noticed: People pay attention to babies.

At morning Mass, several people came up to me in the line as we were going to Communion to coo at her and tell me how pretty and happy she is. Following Mass, the priest made a point of coming over to see her and hold her, as did several other Massgoers.

Later in the morning, as she and I strolled over to the grocery market, a man actually pulled over in his car, rolled down his passenger window and asked me how old the baby is. I told him, and he proudly told me he is the father of a 7-month-old baby. He commented on how pretty Miss K is (and I knew he couldn’t even see her because I had the shade up on her stroller to keep the sun out of her eyes). While at the market, and in other stores later in the day, people engaged with me in a way that they normally don’t when I’m by myself.

So I began thinking about God’s creatures, and how we should love them all.

It’s not always easy. I love my family, but I don’t love the man standing on the corner holding the “Will work for food” sign. I love my friends, but I don’t love the woman who was talking on her cell phone while driving her car yesterday and absentmindedly stopped at the green light, where she sat and yakked until I tooted my horn.

Furthermore, I don’t love the centipede that I saw crawling in my kitchen day before yesterday, stirred from his peaceful existence outside by my husband tearing up our deck in preparation for laying a beautiful new patio. 100 legs! God, what were you thinking?

Yet, we are all made by God’s hand, and we are all united together on this earth. Bonded together by this love, we should respect and love one another. Loving my friends and family comes to me without even thinking. What I need to work on is loving those who annoy me or get in my away or do something to make me angry. God loves us all, even when we don’t serve Him the way we should.

I’m not going to work too hard on loving that centipede, however. Those hundred legs made him as quick as an Olympic sprinter, and he ducked into my heating vent, where I promptly sprayed about a half container of bug spray.
Forgive me, Lord.