My mother, who is in her mid-seventies, lives in our downstairs apartment, and my two-year-old frequently goes down to visit his beloved Granny. However, when he wanted to see her yesterday, I had to tell him that Granny was not feeling well, and that she needed to rest before she could see him again. He accepted this quite well, but with a sober look that told me he was thinking about it.
A few minutes later:
HIM [playing with toy phone]: Hello, Granny? How are you feeling? [holds out phone to me] Talk to Granny.It was all I could do to prevent him trotting downstairs with the thermometer to "make her better".
ME: Hello, Granny.
HIM: Is Granny feeling better?
ME: No, I don't think she is yet.
HIM [jumps off chair]: I go get her some medicine.
Later, as I was tucking him into bed, I did my usual routine of singing his favorite song and saying a short prayer:
ME: Lord, thank you for a good day and all the blessings we enjoy. Please help [my son] to have a good night's sleep. Amen.So I quickly asked God to help Granny feel better, and when I had done, my son beamed up at me and said, "Thank you."
HIM: Pray Granny.
ME [not sure I heard right]: You want me to pray for Granny?
I have two older sons, but neither of them developed any sense of empathy or concern for others until they were considerably older. With this one, though... it just seems to come naturally, and it amazes me.