Safe in Arms.

I love being in my White Place. Every week, I look forward in anticipation to going back to it, a sanctuary I can find refuge in, from the harsh winds of world. But more than being there with all the Big People, I love being in my White Place, where all the little children are, at Sunday School.

Sunday School is where the Big People leave their little children to learn songs, games, and valuable life lessons while they attend the adult services.

After a long, busy week at the work, most people can’t wait to sleep in on a lazy Sunday morning. But I find myself waking up early as the sun rises, eager for the highlight of my week.

The rainbow-coloured hall is filled with throngs of children, rambunctious and full of excitement. Like ponies on a field, some of them prance about, squealing with laughter while others dance to tunes in their own heads, delighting one another.

More than running, or cycling, or painting, or dreaming, or a freshly baked egg-tart with cold, cold milk, I like being in my White Place on Sundays, where the little children are.

I'm on my way to the hall, and one of them collapses into my knees, ramming his head into my tummy, giving me a Samurai-sized squeeze. A head is buried into my shirt, and a mischievous smile peeks through a head cocked to one side with glee. GOOD MORNING!!

I enter the hall, and a child with the most beautiful curly chestnut hair, and eyes, large as pools, stands right in front of me, looking at me- just, giggling. How are you today, darling? I ask, and she giggles some more.

I walk out, and another child runs towards me to say hi. HI!!! His warm body leans into mine and I smile, as I take in his boyish good looks and laugh at the previous time I walked away from him in mock misery as he wouldn’t hug me in front of his little boy gang.

I am sitting down, my eyes closed, soaking in the songs of long ago, of songs I’d never heard before because I never knew God when I was a tiny tot- and another child plops into my lap. She doubles up with laughter and puts her nose to my cheek.

I hardly even know these children. Some, I’ve never even met before. But there is such a safety in that rainbow-coloured hall in my White Place that all the children are put at ease, immediately, and know they can find warmth, sunshine and love in any pair of arms willing to take them in.

I love hugs and kisses too. But Time has dragged us to a place where propriety and decorum take grudging priority, and nothing short of an oath of celibacy or familial ties would make any adult creature with the slightest masculine semblance safe, for me at least, at this season in my life, to hug.

Yet, children are different. And with them, I can feel safe, too.

TAKE ME TO THE TOILET. WHERE ARE MY SHOOES! TOILETOILETOILET!! I LIKE YOUR DRESS JIEJIE WAIJIA. YESTERDAY DADDY TOOK ME TO SIT ON A BIG BUS. IT WAS BIG! BIG RED BUS! RED, YOU KNOW. BIG RED BUS! ARE YOU JOINING OUR CLASS TODAY? YAAAAYYYYY!!


Many times, in the midst of song, I found tears running down my cheeks. In being with the children, I realize I can be myself, too. I dance when they dance and sing when they sing, unabashedly, uninhibitedly, the way I never would be able to in front of Big People. With them, I become who I am inside again, and see God for who He is. At once, I lose my cockiness, my defences and become young, child-like, and free.

And as one child wraps her arms over my neck and tells me her favorite colour, I find myself learning what it means to trust God, and to enjoy Him, to enjoy His presence and warmth. As three young sisters chase after the public bus I'm on just to wave goodbye to me, waving frantically, I find myself learning what it means to pursue God. And as a young one spills into my frame and whispers to me something bothering her at school- “Jiejie Waijia, I’ve a performance on Wednesday in front of the whole school and I’m so scared, you know,” I look into her eyes, vulnerable and trusting, and learn what it means to come to God with all my requests, big and small, and to trust His providence for me.

"The soul is healed by being with children." - Fyodor Dostoevsky

Indeed, it is. For I find myself renewed and refreshed in their midst, as I, too, with their arms wrapped around me, come to God as a child myself, safe in His arms.


Hugs, a squeeze, and BYEBYE JIEJIE WAIJIA!! BYEBYE!! MY FAVORITE COLOR IS COLOR-FUUUULLL!!


See you next week, darling. God loves you.

" Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."

-Matthew 19:14