Faith of a Child

I’m not sure what sparked this thought or how this conversation came about. Out of the blue one day last week as I was cooking dinner and Owen was riding his Mickey tricycle around the dining room table (yes, my kitchen is officially a race-track), we had this conversation:

O - “Mom, one day everybody dies, right?”
Me – “Yes.”
O – “And then when you die they bury you in the ground, right?” (not sure how he knows any of this, he’s never been to a funeral)
Me – “That’s right.”
O – “And then someone digs you up later.”
Me – “No. Nobody digs you up.”
O – “Yes they do, Mommy. Somebody digs you up so you can go up to Heaven.”
Me – “We’ll sort-of (not sure how much I should try to explain here). You do go to Heaven, but nobody has to dig you up.”
O – “Yes, Mommy. Jesus digs you up and takes you up to Heaven. That’s what he does, Mommy.”
Me – “OK. Maybe you are right.” (I think he has a pretty good grasp on the whole concept, I decide to leave it alone.)
O – “I’m right Mommy. That’s what happens when you die.”
Me – “You are so smart, Owen. Where did you learn that?”
O – “No where. I just know it.”