"Why do some animals eat gazelles?"

It’s late when she asks it.

She’s sleeping on the floor that night. Nana is here, so Heidi gets the special treat of camping out, next to Brother’s bed, in her princess sleeping bag. I lay out blankets, make it soft, then snuggle her into the nylon pink fluffiness. She wiggles down into warmth, and I lie there next to her in the dark. My eyes are puffy from crying. I’m so tired.

We lie there in the darkness, the silence. Brother shifts in his bed and yawns. Her back is to me and my arm is around her, my hand on her chest. Under her fleece jammies her tiny ribcage rises and falls with her breath. I close my eyes.

After awhile, I feel her turn toward me. She leans her face into mine, her eyes wide to see me in the dark. She reaches her small, damp, starfish hand up and touches my face.

“Mommy?” She whispers, so quiet.

“Yes, baby?”

“Why do some animals eat gazelles?”

Ah yes. That.

I wondered when she would ask.

My sweet girl loves gazelles. She saw them at the zoo, beautiful deer with the stunning antlers, grazing with the zebras. We had just seen the ballet Giselle, and she seemed to think these angelic animals were on par with ballerinas. Graceful and leggy–every little girl’s dream. So she loves gazelles and then one fateful day we were reading some wildlife book, turned the page, and there was the unfortunate full-spread picture of lions …. eating a gazelle.

She had sat, silent. Hadn’t said a word. I quickly moved past the page, and days–weeks even–had gone by.

But now, in the dark, she asks.

“Why do some animals eat gazelles?”

Her voice is equal parts curiosity and sadness. Why do they?, but then How could they? 

I close my eyes again and feel so much sadder than the immediate moment warrants. My mind is on another little girl and boy, that same night, that same moment, tossing and turning in their own beds, asking the same question in another, infinitely more difficult way:

“Why did Mommy have to die?”

What exactly DO you do on the first goodnight without your Mommy? How do you fall asleep? What do you pray?

I pray.

I pray for K. and K., sweet children. I remember when Shawna was round with her first, baby boy. And now I’m praying for him as he faces his first night without her.

Tears slip down my cheeks. I pray more.

Heidi watches my face. I still need to answer her.

“I don’t know, baby girl. I think some things are hard for us to understand, but we know God loves us and uses everything sad to make everything beautiful, someday.”

Miraculously, she is satisfied with this.

She closes her eyes, her hand still on my cheek.

I inhale her sweet-apple-breath and stay right there, watching, until she falls asleep.

{Praying grace for whatever parts are aching in your heart today.May His love cover all that we don’t understand. Thank you for your faithful prayers for Shawna’s kids, and thanks for reading.}