This afternoon the children accompanied me on an errand after school. An older gentleman walked into the building with a pipe in his mouth and my wide-eyed children watched him with wonder and curiosity.
When we got back in the car, K said, "Mama, that man with the really big cigarette freaked me out." (Excuse me? When did you turn into a teenager, K?)
"I thought he was going to smoke that big cigarette and just die right there in front of us."
(I could not stop giggling at this comment. Their little minds are so literal!)
"Sweetie, people don't usually just die in front of you from smoking. It takes a long time and they usually get sick before they die."
P piped in, "So, they start coughing then they die?"
"Well, generally, they are very sick in the hospital first before they die."
"What does it look like to die in the hospital?"
"Well, your heart stops beating. You stop breathing. Your eyes close, and even though your body stays in the bed, your soul--the part that really makes you laugh and cry and think, the part that makes you YOU--is what goes to live with God in heaven."
R, who had been listening intently then added, "Yeah, and they take out your skeleton and put it in a big kid classroom for everyone to see."