The little boy came rushing into my house toting a large backpack. This was his first time meeting me, and he was excited to show me the art supplies he had brought along for our morning together.  

I provided the little guy, who is five, with a cushion to perch upon so he could reach the table, and once he settled in, he gave me an appraising look.  

“Are you a grandmother?” he asked. “No, but I’m a godmother,” I replied. 

He then delivered the verdict in the way of children who do not mince words. “You’re old. You could die at any minute.” 

I desperately wanted to laugh but held it back until later when I could tell my friends. There is an old saying “out of the mouth of babes,” referring to children’s proclivity for proclaiming truth, while adults dance around the facts.  

I am indeed old, and yes, I could “shuffle off this mortal coil,” as Shakespeare put it, at any moment. Now this is true of everyone, since no one knows the day when God will call us home. Still, the older we get, the more we realize the sand in our hourglass is dwindling, 

There is a lovely lady at church, who is a light in the lives of others. Cecelia keeps track of folks in the parish who are ill, so she can pray for them and visit them. When she makes supper, she shares it with a neighbor who can no longer cook. She bakes a large pound cake weekly, so her friends can savor the sweetness.  

She recently celebrated her 87th birthday, and she said, “Some people say they take life day by day—but I take it minute by minute—and every moment is a gift.”  

What do we do when we face our mortality? Some folks make “bucket lists,” which may include vacationing in Europe or climbing a mountain. But there is another path, which is embracing the ordinary moments that reveal God’s fingerprints in our lives.  

Each morning, I awaken to the enthusiastic songs of Carolina wrens and a hearty solo contributed by a neighborhood rooster. My cat gets up with me, then falls asleep on a chair and embellishes the symphony with his snoring. My first prayer is a simple “Thank you, Lord!”  

In a wonderful book “The Practice of the Presence of God,” Brother Lawrence describes a profound spiritual experience he had at age 18. Looking at a leafless tree in the snow, he thought about the beautiful changes that would come with spring, and he felt a deep sense of God’s love. He then decided to spend his life walking in God’s presence.  

A cook at the monastery, Brother Lawrence sought God’s presence constantly, whether he was in church or in the kitchen. He wrote, “In the noise and clutter of my kitchen, while several persons are at the same time calling for different things, I possess God in as great tranquility as if I were upon my knees at the Blessed Sacrament.”  

Each day God sends us the gifts of a sunrise and sunset, which surpass any manmade beauty in the world. All day long, he sketches clouds shaped like bears and dragons and mountains upon the canvas of the sky.  

The little boy who visited me had it exactly right. It is true that we can die at any moment. Rather than running from that realization, let’s endeavor to bask in God’s presence as we savor the glorious gift of every minute we have left.