Pain, Pain Go Away

I have a prayer corner in my house. It's in the guest room that my wife and I have turned into a storage room for books and bags and shoes and the like. It has a mattress for a prayer seat, and on this is a large pillow to make long sitting bearable; I placed a straw mat under the two to separate the space some more from the rest of the small room. I have a mini-fan neatly placed beside me when I'm seated and there are prayer books on the side within easy reach. There's a CD player for playing spiritual instrumentals that help in quieting down. And in front of me is a flat wooden bench that's actually a seat from our dining table set-up which acts as a make-shift altar. On it are the Bible, a copy of the Spiritual Exercises which I received in 2000 after pronouncing my religious vows, and a small crucifix.

My three-year old daughter, Priana, drops by my prayer corner from time to time. She would knock on the door when she finds that I have locked myself in the room for prayer. "Papa, open door pleeez."

Last night she stared at the cucifix for some time, standing there beside me where I was seated. I drew her to my lap and she sat, still looking intently at the small object.

"Oh, Papa Jesus has yayay*," she said.

"Yes, he has." But I couldn't say anything more after that. I found it difficult to explain why or how Almighty God, Maker of all that is, was, and ever will be, the First Cause and Ultimate End of all beings, He who is sufficient unto Himself --- why this God would allow HImself to have "yayay."

* My daugther's other word for something painful is "ouchy," which she learned from her mother.