Tuck is a bike rider now, and every day involves a trip to the park. Tyler plays in the sand and happily meets other children while Tuck rides in wide, looping circles around us all. It's a really great scene, fitting for every last one of us.
(And sometimes, I bring a book. Those are the best days of all.)
Not too long ago, the scene played out like the one above, and Tuck was riding on the far corners of the park. He was well within sight, but far out of reach. These are both okay, as the boundaries are clear and he mostly stays within them.
But on this day, I suddenly saw a Parks and Recreation Truck headed straight for him. (I don't love that they can drive on sidewalks, but I suppose they must. Hence, their job in our lands of parks and recreation.) The truck was driving slowly, and Tuck was riding quickly, but they traveled the same path: directly toward one another.
They were a football field's distance from me. I could not get to him, I was afraid that the sound of my shouting would distract him from making a wise decision, and I could only wait and watch it unfold. My breath caught in my throat, as I watched.
"Please, God. Show Tucker what to do right now. Please."
And just like that, before the truck got any closer, Tuck rode his bike off the sidewalk and far into the grass. He laid down his bike, to resolve any question for the driver: "I'm staying here. You can pass me."
Way to go, sweet child. Boy who followed the rules and remembered.
When he rode his bike back to me, now in clear and danger-free zone, I heaped praise on him by the handful.
"Tuck, I was afraid as I watched you. You were so far away, and I knew I couldn't help you. So I prayed for you. I asked God to take care of you and show you what to do, and he did. That very same moment, you did the right thing."
I praised him for the decision at his end of the park, and I told him about the praying at my end of the park. Because it's never too early to teach my little boy that the Holy Spirit can guide his actions.
And quite possibly save his life.
Thank you for listening, Tuck. And thanks to you, too, Creator and Protector of my children.