Be Like the Little Children: An Open Letter to Pastor Joel Osteen
When my daughter, Cheyenne, died in 1994, easily some of the kindest and most tender words of solace were offered by the young, sometimes very young, children. They seemed to understand the pain of a baby’s death. Some children, often of my friends or neighbors, learned of the news with their parents; the children’s faces contorted with sadness, their heads dropped, they hugged me, a few cried.
Years later, even now, when I tell a young child that one of my precious children died – many years ago – he or she will often respond the same way. An old friend’s 8-year-old daughter, whom I just met, said, “That’s the most sad thing that could ever happen isn’t it? You must still be so sad.”
Indeed, I am still sad that she’s dead. I will be an old woman, sitting in a chair, looking out a window, and wishing she never died.
It’s a concept that is simple enough for a child to understand.
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