When I forced the small cow out of Zikkiie’s mouth, his look seemed to say, “Why can’t I have it? Why does that wild little kitten get everything?“ His sorry changed to extreme joy when I handed him the pig Morgan had bought. Zikkie bounded around, biting and biting, with the pig squeaking and squeaking. Jello rushed in to see about all the noise and rushed out again carrying another pig I had tossed to her.
“Oh no,“ said Zikkie, who dropped his pig and, leaving his fun toy lying on the floor, ran after Jello.
I thought, “How dumb.“ Then I remembered – that very morning, as I sat on the porch “praying” (or whining “in the presence of the Lord”), I was focusing on how my legs were causing me trouble. I had “left lying on the floor” all the wonderful gifts that the Father had provided for me to, instead, go after something that at my age I probably wasn’t going to get. Zikkie could tell me, “How dumb.”