Children

The teacher asked her pupils to write essays on anatomy. One little boy wrote: Your head is kind of hard and your brains are in it and your hair grows on it. Your face is in front of your head, the place where you eat. Your neck is what keeps your head off your shoulders, which are sort of like shelves where you hook the straps to your overalls.

Your arms are what you have to pitch a softball with and to reach for the muffins at breakfast. Your fingers stick out of your hands so you can scratch, throw a curve, and add arithmetic. Your legs are what you have so you can run to first base; your feet are what you run on, and your toes are what gets stubbed. And that’s all there is of you, except what is inside.

But I’ve never seen that. — Prochnow, H. (Adapted). “You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise You because J am fearfully and won- derfully made’ (Psalm 139:13-14).