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It’s 3:30 in the morning.  I’m up late in my office, working furiously in an effort to finish my dissertation in the next 5 days.  All of the sudden I hear the patter of little feet and Rachel pokes her head into my office and asks me something I don’t understand.  She’s getting over the flu, so I assume she’s either delirious or in pain and needs some comfort.  I pull her into my lap, and after about the 5th request to repeat her question, I finally understand it.

 “Daddy, what’s outside the earth?”

I’m stumped…I finally say “Heaven”.  She’s not convinced and asks “well then, how do we get there”.  I tell her that death is usually the primary route.

 She says, “Oh, I didn’t know that”. 

Hops off my lap and heads back to bed.  I asked her if she was going to go get in my bed, since I assumed that she was up asking questions for some other reason, i.e. she was sick, feverish, or had a bad dream.

She says, “No, I’m going to get back in my bed” as if I’m stupid for even asking.

On the way out, I mention that there’s also outer space – just outside the earth – where spaceships and rockets go, but she appears to be more interested now in going back to bed.

 I have no idea what woke her up, or why her little brain was churning this over with sufficient intensity that she felt the need to get out of bed and ask about it.  But it was a precious moment.  Kids are amazing, and it’s a sobering thing to realize what an important role parents play in shaping these amazing little minds.