Children’s Bread


He made a simple cross for the children. Joy came back to him. I could see it. He came in to share with me. Joy in his heart. Somehow by ‘accident’ my wife had prayed for his cross ministry. I have been blessed to see him sink teeth into his calling.


He’s out making crosses, which he often sells. Group of poor Hispanic, black and white children around him.

And a little girl. One arm half grown, and one arm with a few fingers that look like toes.

“Honey,” he said. “What happened to you.”

“I was born like this.”

“Well, I don’t know why God made you this way, but you sure are a beautiful girl.”


She wanted a cross. She proceeded to negotiate with him for a better price. Have you ever tried negotiating with a little girl with one arm about the price of a cross he told me. What do you think the Holy Spirit told me?

Then he described the children on the ground as he helped them paint their own crosses. For as word got out, that he was an easy touch — there went the business for the day.

And a little girl, went to bed that night with her cross.


Somewhere, the heart of God smiled. And what size mansion would you put a little girl in? And what kind of beautiful new body would you prepare for her to wear in eternity if you were He who is Holy?


Can you see the seven or eight-year-old, ‘negotiating’ for a better price? Can you see her making her own cross?

Yes, the Children’s Bread. Soft whispers of hope, gentleness. Thy Gentleness has made me great, the psalmist prayed. Such a gentle artistic touch to move a wave of kindness upon her soul. We might see her as poor, but who knows, the treasure in her heart. Did you see her smile, as a butterfly folded his wings upon a rose petal, and she softly blew it a kiss? We can be sure HE did.




© coffee java espresso 7/18/02