I'm sure He melts too

Turtle asks to hold the crucifix over our bed sometimes.
She studies it carefully, little lips pursed.
"Boo-boo," she says, pointing to the wound in Jesus' side. She kisses him, then offers Him to me to kiss too.
"Knee. Arm." She likes to point out body parts.
Then she points to His feet. "Shoe? Sock?"
No, I say, Jesus doesn't have shoes and socks.
After a moment of consideration, Jesus gets plopped down on the pillow -- "Nite-nite."
Yes, I'm sure Jesus went nite-nite.
Then she picks Him up, looks at Him and pats the Crucifix. "Shh, shh," she says softly.

This is her sound for comforting. She sometimes makes her doll and teddy bear "cry" and then "shhs" them in this same way. I wonder: how does she know that Jesus needs comforting? I look at her in surprise, almost in reverence.

Then, suddenly, the moment is over. She moves on, ready for something new.
But I'll remember the sweetness of this moment.
And so, I'm sure, will He.