In France, every class at moyenne section has a mascot. A stuffed toy that each child gets to take home for a weekend. Luc’s class mascot is a bear called Gaston. Gaston wears clothes and has a backpack full of different outfits, shoes and even a toothbrush. When it is your turn to take Gaston home, you take pictures of all the fun activities you do together and tell your class about it in the Monday “show and tell.”
Luc loves Gaston, even more so as, for a long time, this was Luc’s only friend in his class. When it is his turn to bring Gaston home, he doesn’t stop smiling for the entire weekend and whenever you look “a little boy and his Bear will always be playing” (to quote Milne). So, the time came again for Gaston to come home with us and Luc was so excited. He planned activities for them to do together, decided what kind of pictures they would take and games they would play. On the same weekend we had an appointment to view an apartment in the city and Luc decided that Gaston should come with. So, once Gaston was dressed and teeth brushed, he was ready to go and off we went to catch the tram. We eventually found the apartment, climbed the four flights of stairs to get to the top and were greeted by the two boys who lived there with their abundance of Star Wars toys. Our boys were quickly distracted and joined in. It was only later, on our way to our next appointment, that we realized someone was missing. We had forgotten Gaston! Naturally we tried to get a hold of the tenants, but to our dismay, they had left for the weekend. Gaston was trapped in a strange place and all Luc’s plans for the weekend were suddenly shattered. It’s in moments like these that it is hard to be a parent. To explain that, no matter how much you want to, there is nothing you can do. Olivia, to her credit, quickly thought up a story in which Gaston was now having a sleep over while I made the arrangements to collect Gaston on Sunday afternoon. When the time came I was waiting to collect him, but no one arrived. Maybe it was the language barrier or some other miscommunication that led to this scenario, but I had to return home on the tram, empty handed and explain to a disappointed little boy that we would need to try again. That evening we were off again on the 30-minute journey to the apartment, this time as a family. The people were late in arriving home, we waited in the street until we needed to look for cover as it began to rain. I couldn’t believe how much time and effort we were expending on recovering this bear. It is funny how, in these everyday moments we can catch a glimpse of the heart of God. A loving Father who desperately wants to be reunited with His lost children. While Gaston was never the prodigal son who left home and squandered his inheritance, he was lost for a time and then found. God is wanting each person to come into a relationship with Him, yet so many just don’t know this is possible, or that He is even there. Yet, we know. We know the way because we know Christ. We know that it is possible for the lost to be found because we were all once lost too. Gaston did nothing to aid his “rescue”. That was all me. In the same way, on my journey of faith, I came to know Christ because of what He did for me, and the people who made me aware of it. I traveled back and forth to fetch a lost bear for my son because I love him. The joy on his face when he was finally reunited with Gaston was priceless. Every day we all are surrounded by people who have yet to experience the joy and love of a Father who wants to be reunited with them. How exciting that we are invited to be a part of that process? On the other hand, how sad would it be if we missed the opportunity? My prayer is that our eyes would be open to see the opportunities around us. Read more... |
