DRMARTINLUTHERKING

Sometimes we just need to be quiet and listen to a 6-year-old. My friend’s niece, Kathryn, showed her the picture of a birthday cake she had drawn, with five candles which were labeled “P-E-A-C-E.” When questioned, she had the following explanation for her “Abby Bebby,” Kathryn’s own unique translation of “Auntie Debbie.”

“The cake is for DrMartinLutherKing,” she said, running all the names together into one. “When he was a young boy, they had water fountains with brown water and white water. DrMartinLutherKing didn't want to drink the brown water, he thought it was wrong.”

“And,” she continued, “there was a woman riding the bus and they told her she had to move to the back of the bus, but she had worked hard all day and she was tired, so she wouldn’t move. She told DrMartinLutherKing about it and DrMartinLutherKing called his friends and then he gave a speech next to a big swimming pool.”

“But you know what, Abby Bebby?” continued Kathryn, with the certainty that only 6-year-olds seem to possess anymore. “It doesn’t matter what color your skin is, we’re all alike. We pulled up our sleeves and put our arms in a circle and they were all different colors, but it doesn’t matter.”

Methinks DrMartinLutherKing would smile.