poor.

Over the course of today I had the following series of conversations with my son Bergen.

(He’s five, you know.)

At The Breakfast Table.

We sang a song we like to sing every morning after we eat breakfast.  (It’s a song I was reminded of many months ago by my sweet friend Rachael.)  And it’s a song I have been trying to claim as our family’s anthem.

Pure & Holy Passion.

I don’t know if I can even imagine a sound more lovely than the voices of my young children singing those true and simple lyrics together of an early morn.

Berg loves the song.  He grins while we sing it and sways a little in his seat.

“Mom, you know why I love that song so much?”  he asked this morning.

“Nope.  Why do you son?”

“Because when I get big I want to help the poor people.”

(Now, I won’t pretend to exactly understand the connection between helping poor people and the song’s lyrics.  The word “poor” is mentioned, but not in the context of poverty, you know.  But hey – who’s gonna argue semantics with a kid who says he wants to help the poor?)

“Well, little man,” I said to him, “you don’t have to be big to help poor people.  Maybe today you can think about what you would like to do and we can make a plan.”  (I loves me a plan, right?)

While Tucking Him In

We were enjoying our nightly ritual of cuddling and chatting.  (That kid is the King Cuddler at this house.)

I sang Bergen his song but he asked for more.

(Cute boy – doesn’t realize Mamma is tone deaf yet.)

I was sleepy so I just sang Pure & Holy Passion again.

Bergen stopped me.  (And I don’t think it was because of my singing.  Or maybe it was.)

“Oh yeah, Mamma,” Berg reminded me.  “What are we going to do for the poor?”

“Did you think of any ideas?”  I asked him.

He giggled, gave me a sly look and nodded his head.

He whispered, “I want to steal from the rich to give to the poor.”

Ahh.

That’s the kind of boy we are raising here.

Little Robin Hood.

Uh-oh.

After I laughed and shoved his head under the pillow and wrestled around with him for a while we settled back down, cuddled up under his Lightning McQueen blanket, and talked about some real ideas.

Berg figured poor people would be most interested in food because that is what he would want if he had nothing else.

So tomorrow we are going to investigate what food Bergen can cook to give to poor people and how we can arrange for him to play a hands-on role.

I’m kind of excited.

I really want my son to know that being five does not mean you cannot act.

That age, in fact, is never an excuse for apathy.

And that even a small act of kindness is still an act of kindness.