The Girl Eating Oysters Stewart Florsheim

My Five-Year-Old Poses the Question About God

The beauty is it comes up as easily
as the fight she had with Lauren at school
because Lauren told her she wouldn’t be her best friend
anymore if she did not share her fruit roll-up.
My daughter wonders if God will think she is bad
and then, what does He look like anyway. Is He,
in fact, a He or a She, black or white.
She asks if God is the echo she hears
when she makes loud noises in tunnels
and if He is the wind that makes kites
climb way up to the sky. What amazes me most
is the assumption that God exists, and I hesitate
when I tell her that some people don’t believe in God
and some people believe in many gods.
Some people even think monkeys are gods.
She is quiet for a moment and then,
pointing to the fat little monarch on top of
King’s Auto Repair on High Street, That’s Him.
I know for sure. That’s Him.


April 2004 ContentsPDF2River