The Hand May be a Little Child's

In old days there were angels who came and took men by the hand and led them away from the city of destruction. We see no white-winged angels now. But yet men are led away from threatening destruction: a hand is put into theirs, which leads them forth gently towards a calm and bright land, so that they look no more backward; and the hand may be a little child's.

~George Eliot, Silas Marner

Let us pause today and let these words sink in. The babe yelping for a midday snack, the child tugging on your sleeve for attention, the saucy tree-climber - such innocence and inexperience are founders of good in us.

Now remember the film Children of Men. A world without children is a world without laughter. There is no color, no decency, no hope. Memory fades and the pleasurable monster of self comes to fill the vast emptiness left by it's tiny former occupant when a life has no toothing dependent.

Oh, I thank God for the many little ones who, when I think I lead, are in fact leading me!