TENDER HEART

I was trying to stay warm under my covers for a few minutes longer this morning while Molly was in my bathroom blow drying her hair.  It was still dark, 6:30 ish. In comes Ellie to my room, crying from deep inside her little body and crawls under my covers with me.  She said she had a terrible dream and just her saying those words made her start crying even harder.  I held her tightly, stroking her hair and kissing her cheeks, and asked her if she wanted to tell me about it.  She cried slower and calmed herself down enough to say, "we were all at a big family dinner and this boy walked up and wanted to play ball with Jeffrey, while they were playing ball, the boy was hit with the ball and he died" as the last couple words came out her gut wrenching sobs began all over again. After hugging her tightly, rocking her and talking it through, she calmed down. As I sat there cuddling with her, my mind wandered to the other night when she and I were having another conversation. She had asked questions about children in Africa, and what their lives were like and how we were going to help them while we are there.  I told her how different their lives were from ours, but was not graphic or harsh.  This too, brought her to tears. She was even embarrassed that she was crying and didn't think that I noticed that she had completely shifted her body and her eyes to finish the conversation.   Then I remembered back a couple years to when we had taken Ellie to talk to a counselor because she had been experiencing some health issues that had no end result or diagnosis and we wanted to make sure there wasn't more going on that we were overlooking. After she met with Ellie,  I remember the counselor saying to me, 'Ellie is extremely sensitive to the world around her. She cares deeply for people she doesn't even know, children sick in hospitals, people who are hungry, etc. She thinks about them and worries about them'.   I know children can be sensitive, but usually by definition that means they get their feelings hurt easily, are easily offended, or prone to tantrums. ( I have these other types of sensitive children). My heart melts knowing that Ellie has a different kind of sensitivity in her. It has been born into her for a purpose.  It humbles me to a place where I crave that type of sensitivity; the kind that doesn't see self, but sees others.  I am praying to have a tender heart like hers, for my heart to break for the same things that break God's heart.