The Grinch

I have been chewing on my words about Bryan being childlike, mulling them over. Wondering if saying them somehow made him seem less of a man or something. I said that he always made me think of being a kid. Maybe it is because we grew up together, shared all our milestones and childhood memories. There is only 10 months difference in our ages. But that is not what I was trying to express yesterday.

Some people may think being like a child is a bad thing. I don't know. Then I had Bible time with my kids and I read Jesus' own words in Matthew 18. "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." My brother was a step ahead of me here. He has always been trusting and unpretentious. Even to his disadvantage. I can remember more than one conversation where I cautioned him to not be so trusting. To be careful. To check things out better before he believed in it. Some of my words may have been wise. But in hind sight, I think I am learning something of heaven by thinking about what came naturally for Bryan. Even though he was a big, strong, grown-up man, thirty six years old, he was childlike in a lot of really good ways. He believed.

He watched the Grinch Who Stole Christmas two nights before he died. He watched it every year at Christmas, along with Miracle on 34th Street and It's A Wonderful Life. These are hope-filled stories. He loved them all. In The Grinch, Dr. Seuss showed that there was hope for a grumpy character with a heart the size of a pea. A little girl changed his tiny crabby heart overnight. I know the movies are make-believe; Bryan knew it too. Yet it comforts me to know that he watched The Grinch right before he died. Almost proof that he still believed, like a little kid. Not in the Grinch. But in Hope.