Credulity

Yesterday, on our way to swim lessons the boys and I stopped in at our local(ish) thrift store. It's a place they know I love. They help me seek out special fabric, yarn, and sometimes buttons...by the dozen.

I had reminded them quickly but sternly on our way in, that there would be no asking for things and no rewards for anyone who got the "gimmes" while we were in there. They nodded with understanding and the innocent look of we would never dream of it, in their eyes.

Once inside, they knew which way we were headed and asked if they could wander over to the kids' shoe section. (I know, right?!) It is within eyeshot and of course anything within a several metre radius is within earshot of a three and four year old. I heard the exclamation of "look crocs!" followed by "ohhh, and look at those". Here we go, I thought to myself...cringing in anticipation of a request to purchase whatever the new-to-them treasure was.

But I was oh-so-wrong.

"Mama, come look". (Tait)

"You have to see these shoes Mama, come look nowwwww, please!" (Noah)

I reminded them that we were in there to browse the fabrics but that I would be over in a minute. They eased up for about 30 seconds and then persisted.

"MAMA, YOU HAVE GOT TO SEE THESE. WE FOUND SHOES FOR OUR BABY SISTER." (Noah)

"THEY ARE SO BEAUTIFUL MAMA. COME SEE THE FLOWERS. CAN WE GET THEM?" (Tait)

"I know she will love them, Mama," Noah completed the thought for them as I wandered over.

Keep in mind we now have a good dozen pair of eyes on us...wondering where on earth this so-called baby sister is, and if she isn't with us why I don't look like I am about to give birth at any moment. I smile politely.

Arriving at their post I glance up at a small pair of shoes, likely a good fit for a one year old. They are up just out of reach (otherwise I am certain they would have been brought to my immediate attention).

It is at this moment that I wonder how exactly, these two small boys who have heard talk of this one small child who will one day (soon) join our family to complete us, can continue to believe so deeply in her. Talk about faith of a child. I wonder often, how much they think of her because talk of her is frequent.

• Each pair of outgrown shoes, will be for their baby sister. (I withhold the comment that the shoes are blue and brown and, well, just not girly.)

• Each sippy cup, cloth diaper, blanket, stuffed toy, soft baby book, will be for their baby sister.

• Each night...Each. Night. If nothing else, they pray for their baby sister.

How and why do they continue to believe - know even - that one small girl from far far away will join us?

Perhaps it's naivety.

Maybe it's earnest, honest-to-goodness, God-given faith.

Whatever it is, I'll take it - and I wish I had more of it.

And the shoes? They were these muddy, filthy, old worn out things. With flowers. Tiny pink, purple, yellow, and green flowers. Yet, when my boys looked at them all they saw was how perfect they would look on their baby sister.