Color

While on the bus yesterday, I overheard a family conversation. There was a mom and dad with their two primary school aged boys, and the boys' aunt and uncle. At some point in the conversation, the aunt asked the boys if they would like a little sister. The older boy said "No," but the little one said, "Yes. The same color as me."

The two boys were dark-skinned, and their parents were Caucasian. The older boy had olive skin while the younger had dark brown. The family obviously enjoyed and loved each other. But I couldn't help but think about the little boy's comment.

I wondered why he would make such a statement. I wondered what was going on in his little life that made this an important criteria for a little sister. I wonder what kinds of comments he may have heard, and what thoughts he might have that need to be expressed. I wondered if having the President of the United States who has the same coloring as the little boy would make a difference in his thoughts. I wondered why color mattered to such a little boy.

I certainly have no answers. I grew up in a racially segregated time and place. I can see how racial issues have improved with time. But I can also see how they still exist. I can only hope that when this little boy grows up, a person's skin color will matter even less than it does now.

I hope this little boy gets the little sister he wants. I hope their world will be full of color, and love, and acceptance. But most of all, I hope the world will realize that all colors are made by God who loves them without reserve.