Carrots for Sammy
A short personal essay
Welcome back to The Little Island🏝️, a pile of rocks and sand in an ocean of disruption where I go to write stories and essays, paint illustrations and craft songs with my own two hands. Today, I’m sharing a short essay drawn from the well of daily life in the (often chaotic) Shifflett house. Thanks as always for reading and subscribing.
Sammy reached for the Bible memory verse card stuck on the fridge under the State of Iowa magnet.
On one side of the card, a quaint watercolor depicts a Jesus figure with Western features. On the other side is the week’s memory verse, printed in King James English: “[Cast] all your care upon Him, for He careth for you.” 1 Peter 5:7
Sammy wants to practice the verse so he can get a prize from his teacher’s treasure box jammed with bouncy balls, slap bracelets and shiny plastic rings.
I want him to eat his damn breakfast and sit still long enough so I can get his socks and light-up sneakers on.
My wife Susan pipes in to recite the verse out loud, and Sammy — memory verse card now in hand — attempts to read along with her while returning to his chair.
Despite my efforts to corral him, though, Sammy pops up again — now doing a happy dance, shouting something about carrots of all things: “Oh yeah, carrots for me! Carrots for me!”
Amid all of this chaos, my immediate reaction is to line up some sharp words and ready to fire them at Sammy.
But just before I blast away, I suddenly realize what has happened: Sammy loves carrots, and he thinks the Bible verse promises carrots from Jesus if we cast our anxieties upon him (“…he careth for you”).
For a long moment I manage to hold back my disciplinary zingers (“No screen time for you after school!”).
After all, there’s not a lot to be angry about in this scenario: my kid loves vegetables, and at the age of four he — in his own way — accepts wholeheartedly the theological truth that Jesus (blond hair on the memory verse card not withstanding) cares about the many things that preoccupy our minds — carrots, Hot Wheels cars, and Transformers for Sammy; espresso, espresso, and more espresso for me (not to mention a million other things).
When this shining thought finally breaks through the fog in my head, I’m suddenly unable to hide a smile despite my prickly mood.
“Yes, Sammy, Jesus has lots of carrots for you. Now get your butt back in the chair and finish your breakfast.”
Despite my gruff command, Sammy is able to register the sudden upward curl of my lips, and so he continues on (and on) about the truckload of carrots that Amazon may soon deliver to our doorstep.
I loved Sammy’s carrot theology, and your quiet shift from frustration to affection was a lovely reminder to see the world through our children’s bright, imaginative eyes. A gentle gem, Charlie.