This morning my three year daughter told me she had a dream last night. I asked her what she dreamed. She told me, still half-awake, half-asleep (it was seven in the morning), she had dreamed about Jesus.
I was very proud to hear this, so I asked her what happened in the dream.
She told me Jesus fell down and got his arm and leg and knee and pants and shirt dirty.
I assumed she was connecting this to a scene she saw last Easter weekend in one of the movies we watched depicting Jesus’ crucifixion. Of course, we didn’t let her watch much of that scene, thinking it would be a bit too traumatic at her age. (Though we were surprised that she knew it was Jesus carrying the cross. When she saw it she exclaimed, “Oh no, what happened to Jesus?!“)
(FYI, I wrote more about this in my post on Good Friday if you want to take a look.)
Back to the dream . . . I asked her what happened next, after Jesus had fallen down and dirtied his arm and leg and pants and shirt.
She told me he then got a boo-boo. I asked her where. She pointed to her hand and told me he had gotten a boo-boo in his hand. She then told me he had gotten a boo-boo and was dead.
I asked her where this happened.
She told me, “Jesus got a boo-boo at the crossroads.”
I said, “Where?“
She repeated, “At the crossroads.”
I asked her what happened next. She told me she didn’t know. This was all she could remember.
Since we had been telling her about Easter for the past few weeks, I thought I would probe a bit to see if our teaching had paid off.
So I asked, “Well, what happened on Easter?“
She raised up in excitement, looked at me and proudly proclaimed, “The Easter Bunny!”
I smiled and reminded her of the resurrection.
She returned the smile and turned her attention back to the morning cartoons playing on the television.