A few years ago a little girl from Poland moved into our street a few houses down from me. She and her mom are renting a basement in one of the somewhat posh houses in our neighbourhood. She couldn't speak Danish and her mannerisms were a bit strange, so the other kids would not play with her. At our monthly dinner parties with some surrounding houses the other neigbours complained that she would sometimes go into our front yards and just start playing with our kids' toys as if they were her own. Most neighbours would shoo her away. Not so me. I grew up as an odd child myself, an only child born to old parents, so I also wore strange clothes and lacked social skills. So I treated her like a friend when I bumped into her in my garden. Running a B & B means I spend a lot of time outside hanging laundry on the line, taking it off and folding it. Not the most exciting occupation, so I welcomed Mona's company. Dave scrounged the basement and found a few toys that Andreas had grown out of. She was very thankful. It was obvious, for example, that she had never owned a puzzle before, as a wooden puzzle designed for four-year-olds kept her occupied for a long time. Dave and I also played a simple board game with her one lazy Saturday summer afternoon when she had been here about a year.

Once when we had a church party in our yard I had invited her and her mom, our church being so international anyway. But the mother told her off that day for joining our party and when we went to her door to urge her to come, the mother seemed very fearful, almost hostile, and did not want to join us. I hear other neighbours telling Mona to leave their yard, not to follow them on her roller skates when they are walking their dog etc., so over the years I have tried to take a different approach and be friendly because I figure she might not have many friends.

Anyway, Mona's Danish has improved over the years, her clothing seems more fashionable now and she is a beautiful little girl, probably about 10. I still never see her with any friends, but from time to time she still visits with me in my garden and tells me about new clothes, trips to Poland etc. I don't mind her company.

The other day I came home from a busy day at the office and crashed on the couch for a few minutes, checking my mail before having to clean rooms upstairs. The summer season can really stretch me, it is tiresome to come home from work and have to start work. So I crashed for a few minutes. Then the doorbell rang. It was Mona. "I was wondering if you can come out and play?". That's when I started my lecture. "I am a grownup and grownups don't play, because we have to work in offices and clean houses. I don't ever have time to play, so I don't want you to ring my doorbell another time and disturb me, because I am very busy. I don't mind talking to you when I am outside in my garden, but I don't want you to come to my door and disturb me. I am an adult, you know, you need to find kids to play with". She apologized, shrugged her shoulders and left. And I started my cleaning upstairs.

That's when it hit me. Jesus said something about our responses to children. Something about receiving them like we would receive him. Something even about becoming like little children to receive the kingdom. I think this is to be understood literally, but I also think hanging out with children helps us loosen up. Children just crawled up on Jesus' lap. Pharisees asked him complicated religious questions, cynically and analytically. I think we adults need to hang out with children to lighten up. We get so caught up in typing important case files and dusting and vacuuming. I think I missed an invitation from Heaven that day. It would have probably done me good to toss a ball around for a few minutes before heading on to the next important point on my crowded to-do-list.

A former boss gave a speech at a company Christmas party a few years back. He had had a bit to drink, so he started speaking about me towards the end. "You Solvej, you are so naive, it is almost like you are a child" he said. The others chuckled, but I knew he liked me, so I took it as a compliment. I want to have the heart of a child. A heart that believes the best about people, a heart that trusts, a heart without walls and sediment left from years of let-downs and disappointments. I was reminded of that again that afternoon a couple of weeks back while fluffing pillows, reflecting on my serious and important adult speech minutes earlier. To help us keep childlike hearts God sometimes sends us children to play with. Do we turn them away? We might turn Him away in the process....