A pink book
Yesterday, I took the kids to the library. While two-year-old Tiger Lily was returning the DVDs, she managed to make eye contact with a librarian through the slot. "Do you have any pink books?" she inquired.
The librarian pointed her toward the children's department and told her to ask a librarian for Pinkalicious.
Tiger Lily marched up to the children's desk and asked the librarian there, "Do you have any pink books?"
The librarian looked high and low for Pinkalicious, but all the copies were checked out. Each time we'd show Tiger Lily a pink book, she'd say, "That's not Pink-Delicious." Finally she settled for a book with a giant pink meatball on the cover.
Later that evening, Red Chief clamored for a trip to the thrift store to find a nine-volt plug. The whole family went, and while Mr. Mordecai and Red Chief were looking for the plug, Tiger Lily and I browsed the books. "Can I have a pink book?" asked Tiger Lily, shaking her 72¢ in a jar.
I looked through the books, but couldn't find a pink book to suit her. "That's not Pink-Delicious," she repeated. I was pretty sure we wouldn't just happen to find a copy of Pinkalicious at the thrift store. I eventually gave up and wheeled the cart away from the books, giving one last glance over my shoulder.
As I looked back, I saw one last pink book sticking out from the shelf and turned around to check the title. It was Pinkalicious. The pages were dog-eared and falling out, but there it was. Tiger Lily was elated, and immediately sat down in the cart to "read" it.
As I was standing at the kitchen counter later that night using most of a roll of tape to repair and reinforce that poor, loved book, it occurred to me that someone besides me was watching out for Tiger Lily. I know that God loves us, but I needed this reminder. God knows and loves each of us individually, and He does not forget His children, not even a small, opinionated two-year-old who wants a particular pink book.