This week’s On My Mind includes more thoughts on immigration. And then even more thoughts on immigration (including a story about my husband’s family, who emigrated from Ireland). And it includes more thoughts on Donald Trump, of course.
But it also contains a little story about my six-year-old, who recently asked me something about the Zika virus:
“Is that mosquito virus here yet?” he asked.
“Mosquito virus? Do you mean Zika?”
“Well, it’s here in the United States,” I told him. “But it’s not here in our area. It’s in Florida.”
“Oh, that’s too bad for the babies there. There will be a lot of babies dying in their mommies’ tummies.”
Most people would probably be appalled to know that my six-year-old was thinking of such things. I’ll admit to feeling a little guilty about it. But mostly, I just felt proud. My boy is paying attention. He’s understanding. He’s asking questions. He’s caring. And he wrapped up our conversation by suggesting that we pray for the babies.
“God, please take care of the babies in their mommies’ tummies. Please keep them from getting the mosquito virus. That’s all.”