He flew across campus on his little yellow bike, never pausing to look back. He was a man on a mission at dinner time. As soon as the last crumb of cheese cake stuffed its way past his lips, he darted between the dining hall tables and was out the door. Again, I found myself several steps behind the blur of preschool legs bouncing up and down the hall. Suddenly the chapel door caught his attention. By the time I followed him inside he was deep within the sanctuary.
Then I noticed where his little legs had carried him – to the front pew. Kneeling, with his sun bleached head bowed, he was quietly whispering prayers. Only God knows what was on his little heart because not even I could decipher his murmurings. I gazed at his still form, so thankful for this moment of peace. Another moment later and the reverie was broken, his body on the move again, another adventure in the making.