“Will I go to Heaven?”

It was a simple question, asked by one of my nine year old twin daughters, on our way home from a night out on the town. No real worry about the answer, more a curiosity.

When you are nine, there are many things to worry about: homework, the kid setting next to you on the bus being mean to you, among others. Worrying about whether or not you get to make the trip upstairs after you die, is not one you would think a child would be thinking about.

I pointed out she has lead a wonderful life, that she is a very loving, kind soul and assured her, whenever she leaves planet Earth behind, she will most certainly get to Heaven.

I watched for a reaction, via my rear view mirror, but she accepted my thoughts without any outward show of emotion one way or the other. She just stared out the window, watching the lights play off the river over the next mile or so, until she drifted off to sleep.

Perhaps I asked the same questions when I was her age. I was a rather precocious child, but don’t remember one way or the other. I know by the age of fifteen I had begun to ask many questions about religion. A lot of them my pastor at the time didn’t want to answer.

The question from my daughter came from out of the blue, so it was definitely on her mind. I have had several people remark she has an old soul. Tonight, her soul was wondering what the future would hold.