Her teacher asked the class of two year olds, “Who do you love?”
Evie replied, “Evie,” patting her chest to emphasize her point.
It was the only answer that would make sense to her. Parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts and cousins have all said as much. Loving Evie is in keeping with our family tradition.
I hope she always loves herself!
I hope she loves herself, not with self-promoting narcissism that masquerades as love, but the way her Papa loved her—and all of us.
George was a loving man by nature, but it was during a season of marital adversity, he learned to really love. It was when I, his ‘lovely’ wife, had become anything but lovely—impossible to like and even more difficult to live with—that he read 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 everyday. He chose to love like that.
He became patient and kind. He did not envy what was going well for me, did not boast about his right actions and was not too proud to take the blame for what had gone wrong between us. He showed no dishonor in either word or deed, and sought our best interests instead of his own good pleasure. He was not angry and didn’t keep track of my growing list of offences. He did not delight in evil but took great joy in truth, always protecting, always trusting, always hoping and always, always, always persevering.
Petite, blonde and surprisingly determined, she is the youngest of the little women George held dearly in his heart—and to his chest when they were in a cuddly mood. I hope she learns to love herself as he loved her.
I hope she loves enough to respect herself and hold others to the same high standard. Enough to take care of her body, her mind and her heart. Enough to be true to her convictions when challenged by peers. Enough to stand firm when criticism and disappointment come. Enough to love others as unconditionally as she is loved.
In this is love, the choice to love ourselves and others as God loves us. I pray this for all six of my beautiful granddaughters and all of my family and friends as well.