Tyler has a diaper rash. (The church nursery was very full tonight, and his little bottom went unnoticed.) As I got him ready for bed, I tended to his soreness, and he cried and cried.
Tucker got his little stool, planted himself next to Tyler's head, stroked his hair, and whispered consoling words. "It's okay, Tozzer. It will feel better. It's okay, buddy. Don't be sad."
I suggested that maybe Tucker could sing to him to help him feel better.
But instead of singing, Tucker folded his sweet little hands, pulled them to his forehead, and prayed for his brother.
"Dear, God, please take care of Tozzer. Bottom hurts. Please, sir, please help Tozzer. Amen."
That is one sacred conversation to listen in on. It is sacred and holy, when my son talks to God.
(And it's very sweet that he calls God, sir.)