Innocence

I was quite young when I stayed over my grandmother’s house.
My aunt was there as well.
I remember she wanted to take me to the movies.
She wanted to take me to see, Fantasia.

It must have been re-released with stereo sound.
My aunt loved music and thought that I would love the classical music as well.
I was taking piano lessons during those years, so the music was wonderful.
However, there was one scene that terrified me.

The scene was called, Night on Bald Mountain.
The movie consisted of eight animated segments set to pieces of classical music.
The music was conducted by Leopold Stokowski.
Seven of the eight segments were performed by the Philadelphia Orchestra.

When the Night on Bald Mountain came on the screen, I buried my head in my hands.
I wanted to leave the movie theatre.
I did not want to sit there and watch bats come out of the ground and fly to Bald Mountain.
My aunt felt terrible, since she would never have taken me to something so frightening.

To this day, I have never watched Fantasia, nor do I have a desire to see it again.

I thought of that movie this past weekend when two of my granddaughters were here.
I am so careful to put good things in front of their eyes, whether books or movies.
I am so careful to choose the music we listen to, since I know their little hearts will repeat it.
So, in my mind, Little Bear, is always safe and lovely to watch together.

These sweet granddaughters are 5 1/2 and 2 1/2 years old.
Little Bear is something my youngest daughter watched and loved.
The music is quiet, the dialog is quiet, and the friendships are true.
What could possibly be a problem?

These little ones both have sensitive hearts, which is precious.
However, the little one had a reaction to even words she heard.
If she heard the word goblin, ghost, or monster, she got up off the floor, and came over to me.
She would stand next to, or behind, my chair as close as possible.

There were no tears, but those words were charged in her little mind and heart.
Little Bear may only be wearing a monster mask during a play, but that was enough.
The goblin, who tends to take things and hide them, may only be shown in silhouette.
It didn’t matter; the words, and what they meant to her, were enough.

We grownups forget the power of things children see with their eyes.
We forget the effect that sounds and words have on them.
We forget the things that scared us when we were little.
There is sometimes no rhyme or reason as to “why” something hits a heart in a certain way.

It is our responsibility to keep children as innocent as we can for as long as we can.
We know better.
They trust us.
They look to us to protect them.

If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.  (Matthew 18:6)

Jesus loves the little children.
Jesus cares about what they see, what they hear, and where they go.
Jesus gives us the privilege to care for them.
Jesus wants us to protect their innocence.

Children are little for such a short time.
There is time enough for adult things.
There is enough in the real world to frighten them.
We must keep their little minds and hearts pure.

My aunt never meant to scare me; she had no idea I would be frightened.
I had no way of knowing the trigger words, even in Little Bear, that might scare a little heart.
I treasure that innocent heart in all of my grandchildren.
I want to do what I can, as their Grandma, to keep it innocent for as long as possible.

Especially on my watch.
It matters to Jesus.