Sophie's diaries : 19 months old

Not a progress report this month. I plan to keep things short and sweet. Not because there were no progresses and milestones achieved, but because I thought that the highlight (an important one too) of the month was this:

We were our usual Mc-donald's joint last weekend for an ice-cream date. Hubs, Sophie and myself.

Took our seats at a table. Dour-faced janitor appeared with her broom and dustpan. I am a little wary of her because she once mopped my feet (without blinking an eyelid) while I was eating a cheeseburger. Yups, MOPPED my feet unapologetically with her huge-ass mop - with a bundle of yarn that can make nightmares tick. Stained, hairy, and stinky. I wouldn't want to imagine where that mop has gone. That must have been more than a year ago, but I remember that incident too well. (You never forget yucky things.) And that particular janitor. She never talks. Or smiles. She just moves and sweeps and wipes and mops... with a sort of grim vengeance despite her frail frame. Like the whole world owes her a living. And maybe we do.

Of course, I was on my guard as she approached our table. Even more vigilant than usual just because our 19-month-old was there.

Sophie saw the lady. Waved and smiled at her as if she were an old friend. (And our daughter doesn't always do that to strangers.)

The janitor's dour face broke into a happy grin.

So happy that it was actually rather shocking and scary for me. Her face looked different. Softened. Transformed. And I have never seen her smile before this. "Hey?" she greeted our little girl. Sophie flashed her another smile and nodded. Janitor left, still smiling.

A short encounter that was - but it had a divine quality to it. I would like to think that God used a toddler's unprejudiced, trusting warmth to thaw a cold heart.

Dear Sophie, while you won't stay naive forever, I pray that you would always be a joy and encouragement to those whose paths God allows to cross yours. Be kind, look out for those whom society sees as insignificant, and help the weak. Love you, sweetheart.