“And a Little Child Shall Lead Them,” Ensign, Feb. 1986, 53
One sunny Arizona afternoon, my two-year-old son and I drove to the visitors’ center at the Arizona Temple. I took Josh’s hand as we approached the large double doors, hoping that even though he was so young, I would be able to teach him something about our Savior.
As I opened the door, the statue of Christ stood before us—with arms outstretched as if to beckon us. “Jesus!” Josh exclaimed, as if he were greeting a long-lost friend. Before I could stop him, Josh broke away from me and ran with open arms toward the statue. Darting under the rope barrier that surrounded the figure, he embraced the Savior’s leg.
The guide, smiling, kindly asked Josh to step outside the rope barrier. He spoke with Josh briefly about our visit there, and then went on to welcome others who had come through the door.
I took Josh’s hand, knelt beside him, and talked with him about Christ. Pointing out the nail wounds in the hands and feet of the statue, I told my son about the crucifixion.
Josh’s little chin began to quiver as tears puddled in his eyes. “Who would do that to Jesus?” he whispered, not wanting to believe that anyone would do something so dreadful to someone he loved so much.
Our visit was short, yet Josh talked about it for many days afterward. He could not understand why anyone would want to hurt Jesus, his friend. And I learned from that visit, too. I found out that while I may know about Jesus, it was my sweet two-year-old son who knew the Savior.
The Dalles, Oregon