Good Things

This week I had a better conversation about Ramona with a six year old than I've had with most adults. 

Her name starts with an M, too, and she's been hanging out our desk talking our ears off.  She always looks thoughtful and constantly asks, "Why?" 

She saw that we were putting stickers on things and wanted to help.  While we were stickering, she told me her brother had died.  It was unclear as to how old he was or other details, I could tell that she loved him very much, though.  After a few minutes of talking she asked if I had any kids.

It's hard for me to know how to talk about Ramona with kids.  Some understand 'died' and take it in stride, others might not understand or become fearful.  It makes me sad, because I don't like to lie and say, "No, I don't have any kids."  It's not true, but what do you do?

At first I told her no.  She said, "My neighbor doesn't either, and she says I'm like her kid." 

I smiled, and thought for a second. 

"Remember when said I don't have any kids?" I asked.  "That's not true.  You know how you told me your brother passed away?  I have a daughter and she passed away, too.  So she doesn't live in my house, but she lives in my heart."

She nodded very seriously and said, "My brother who died talks to me and tells me to do good things.  My other brother doesn't believe me, but it's true.  He tells my head and my heart to do good things."

She made my head and my heart feel good that day.