Improving Our Planet

The oth­er night we were hang­ing out with our grand­daugh­ters, prepar­ing din­ner. Kallie was out of town and Zack had to work late. Can’t remem­ber how it came up, but I asked Harp­er what she would say if an angel of God appeared to her and said she could remove one thing from the plan­et, just name it and it would dis­ap­pear, no reper­cus­sions, gone forever.

Elliotte imme­di­ate­ly piped up “Pop Pop!” (The girl has a play­ful streak.) That evoked hys­ter­ics (even my wife laughed!). I told Harp­er I was hop­ing for a more con­sid­ered response from her.

She thought it over (I love to watch that girl think). She final­ly nod­ded her head and said “Trash.” “Why did you choose that?” I asked. “It’s just pil­ing up every­where and ruin­ing every­thing,” she explained. “Even our oceans are full of trash.” We applaud­ed her choice.

Ellie chose to elim­i­nate our elim­i­na­tion process­es. “No more #1 pee or #2 poo or #3 diar­rhea.” She thought about it some more. “And no more #4 barf­ing and #5 toot­ing.” She end­ed up adding two more, sneez­ing and burp­ing. Then she tried to change the numer­i­cal order, but we told her that #1 would always be #1 and #2 would always be #2. “You can’t raise your hand in class and tell the teacher you have to go #1 and then toot,” I told her.

Karen’s choice was guns. Harp­er thought that was an excel­lent choice, and I did too. (Think of it—in one instant every sin­gle firearm on the entire plan­et would disappear—what would the world do next?) I can’t stop myself from think­ing we would just re-invent them in a dif­fer­ent way.

I asked Mason what her choice would be. She said, “Pop Pop” imme­di­ate­ly because she knew that would get a laugh. Then she said some­thing unin­tel­li­gi­ble. I don’t think she got the con­cept but she appre­ci­at­ed being invit­ed into the conversation.

It was my turn. “I’m not sure you guys will like this,” I said, “but I would tell the angel of God dessert.” Their eyes got wide—they were hor­ri­fied. “Why would you say that?” Harp­er demand­ed. I looked over at their most­ly uneat­en plates of cucum­bers, broc­coli and cheese que­sadil­las. “Let me ask you a question—why do you think your mom and dad give you a dessert.” They had to con­sid­er that one. Harp­er got it first (Love to watch that girl think–honestly, her brow even fur­rows a lit­tle). “So that we’ll eat our din­ner,” she admitted. 

I have fig­ured out what I love most about being around very young peo­ple. They are who they are—you get what you see. God is try­ing to get me to be more like that.

What would you tell the angel of God?

Comments

  • I love this so much. It made me tear up a lit­tle. You cap­tured their per­son­al­i­ties so per­fect­ly. I would ask to get rid of hate.

    Kallie17 October, 2019
  • Can­cer

    Gretch17 October, 2019

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