The disciples of Christ Jesus once asked, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" And Matthew's Gospel continues: "Jesus called a little child unto him, and set him in the midst of them, and said, ... Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven" (18:1–4).

I have always felt that I understood what Jesus was saying when he spoke of the "little child," but the deeper import of Jesus' reply to his disciples has been more fully elucidated for me since I became a father. What a blessing it is to experience daily a precious smile of pure joy or that loving embrace of innocence before we say good night.

In the infancy of my fatherhood I was confronted with a new challenge involving my "little child" and our special relationship. One evening I came home to find my daughter suffering from a fever. She was unable to keep her dinner down. Our normally happy and playful little girl was not happy about this condition, to say the least. I took her to her bedroom and tucked her into bed. As I closed the door, I endeavored for the sake of this dear child to shut the door of my thought on the material belief of suffering. I filled my consciousness with the knowledge that spiritual perfection is a reality for all God's children.

Mary Baker Eddy, in Science and Health, talks about childlike receptivity. She writes, "Willingness to become as a little child and to leave the old for the new, renders thought receptive of the advanced idea" (pp. 323–324). If we are striving wholeheartedly for the innocence and purity that are so apparent in our little children, then we can begin to perceive the harmony and immortality of both them and ourselves. Christ Jesus taught, "Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God" (Matt. 5:8). As I continued to pray in this way, I saw so clearly that my daughter was already a "little child," reflecting God-given purity, innocence, and freedom from sin.

When my wife came home, we discussed our daughter's condition. She was deeply concerned. She is not a Christian Scientist, but she was in agreement with my desire to rely on Christian Science for our daughter. My wife wanted to know how to deal with her own fear and anxiety. I assured her that we did not need to be afraid of or impressed by the symptoms our daughter had. Our lives are governed by God, divine Mind, not by matter. The concept of matter versus spiritual reality was difficult for my wife to understand fully, but it was easy for her to see our daughter as God's idea, reflecting love, joy, innocence, and purity, because our daughter manifests these qualities every day. Those were the qualities that my wife focused on.

At three o'clock in the morning, we were wakened by our daughter's crying. I thought she might be hungry since she had not eaten dinner, but she would not take any milk. She was too restless to sleep, so I carried her to my study. No parent likes to see a child uncomfortable. As I cuddled her, I thought about how I was the father, my wife was depending on me, my daughter needed me. Suddenly I paused and repeated what I had just thought, out loud. I realized that I was shouldering false responsibility. God is responsible for all His children, and He gives us only good. On my desk the Bible was open to the ninety-first Psalm. I read the fourth verse: "He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler." I knew God's gentle presence and peace did cradle and encircle my daughter. With childlike trust, I humbly placed my daughter's welfare under God's wings. His truth is a shield and, once understood, will heal. Through my window I could see the early morning sun shining on the mountains.

My daughter was peacefully asleep in my arms. I gently returned her to her crib. After several hours of restful sleep our little child greeted us, standing in her crib, smiling as she always does. She drank her milk and ate all her breakfast. She was well and happy.

I am always grateful for God's blessings and for the opportunity that these experiences provide for growth in grace and in my understanding of divine Science. To humble ourselves as the "little child" of God enables us to receive blessings like those of the wakeful shepherd Mrs. Eddy speaks of when she writes, "The wakeful shepherd beholds the first faint morning beams, ere cometh the full radiance of a risen day" (Science and Health, p. vii).

Greig T. Strachan
Fallbrook, California