For example, 'chocolate' is known as ‘colly’ in our household, and ‘moy’ means ‘more’. Moy is a word that we hear quite often. Sometimes the kid just doesn’t know when to quit.
And I’ve got to hand it to her – there is no better lesson in persistence than a toddler with an agenda. If I’m not paying attention when she comes to me and asks for ‘moy milk’ or ‘moy colly’, she reaches her little hand up to my face and tilts my chin down so my eyes meet hers. “Mama, moy juice,” she insists, her eyes ablaze with an intense, earnest expression that indicates the sheer importance of her request. Her determination often makes me laugh, but it also makes me think about why some of us lose that sense of perseverance as we get older.
Granted, some people probably never lose it, but I know that so many of us get complacent in life. Being content is certainly something to strive for, but there’s a difference between contentment and lethargy.
Sometimes I get frustrated with my own laziness when I consider all the things I could or should be doing. But maybe it just seems impossible to accomplish everything I want when I’ve forgotten what true persistence looks like. And there are so many things that I want to learn…and do…and be.
Maybe it just gets to be overwhelming when we pile so many things onto our wish list and then realize that life goes by in a flash. Or is it because our efforts seem to get thwarted so many times along the way?
I imagine God must find us rather amusing, as there are so many times when we truly, deeply yearn for something but can’t quite articulate it. That shouldn’t stop us – it doesn’t stop the kiddos. Perhaps it’s simply easier for a child to strive for what she wants, without cluttering her mind with expectations and apprehensions. She goes for it and puts her whole mind, body, and soul into getting what she wants, not letting any barriers or miscommunication get in the way…because when the barriers come down and the goal is finally achieved, the payoff can be pretty great:
“Mama, here. Towel!”
“I don’t need a towel, Hannah. I’m dry.”
“No, mama. Towel! Here!”
“No, thank you.”
“Towel!”
“Baby, I really don’t need a towel…”
“Mama, towel! Towel!”
“Um…okay.” I give in and bewilderedly take the towel. “Thank you?”
“Mama…swimming.”
