Loving Clare

In these long weeks of Lent (and beyond), sometimes loving better is just about loving who is in right front of you. 

Most of my days I am surrounded by adults, but I love being around children. Lately I have been enjoying a growing closeness with my 5-year old niece Clare. When I visit her home Clare presumes that I have come to visit her exclusively. We read books, play games, color. "Tell me a story," she will demand, "a scary story!" I don't like scary stories. "Tell me a funny one!" I'm not sure I can think of a funny one (note to self: go to the library and learn some funny stories). "Okay, any story," she'll finally concede. After a few exchanges like this she now says, "Tell me a story, it doesn't have to be scary." 

 

Some children are naturally affectionate and demonstrative, generous with their attentions, but Clare is not one of those. Her physical displays of affection come at surprising moments and can never be demanded. However, she does have one weakness that tends to work in my favor: she gets jealous.

 

It has happened on occasion that friends of the family will be visiting my brother, and I will (as I tend to do) strike up a friendship with a wee one, who ends up on my lap. And at those times I enjoy an unusual level of attention from Clare. This jealousy is especially acute when the competitor is another little girl, as it was just this last week.

 

Sarah, a friendly four-year old, attached herself to me. She instructed me to scratch her back. (Does it itch? I asked. "Yes, I'm sensitive" she said. Her mom translated: she is sensitve to certain foods and it makes her skin itch.) We sat quite content together on the couch for a while, until Clare discovered it and tried to climb between us (my lap belongs to her, thank-you-very-much). My brother rescued us and cuddled Clare for a while until it was time for Sarah and her mom to go home. Then I crooked my little finger at Clare and she actually left her daddy's lap to snuggle with auntie. Oh, my heart!

 

After a few minutes of a back scratch, she decided she wanted a foot massage (how do five-year olds know about foot massages?). So she pulled off her socks and put her stinky, grubby feet in my lap - and I massaged them. It was not the most pleasant thing I have ever done, but it was my pleasure all the same - to be commanded and to obey, all for love.