CAN GOD BE SEEN? — A Little Boy Wonders

boy looking at sky


On the way home from church one Sunday morning, six year old Billy turned to his sister and said, “Katie, the preacher keeps talking about God, but I can’t see him. Can anybody see God?”

Katie sighed and said, “No, of course not. God’s too far away to be seen. He’s up there somewhere but you can’t actually see him.”

On another Sunday after church, Billy sat putting a puzzle together with his mother and said, “Mama, I was just wondering. Can anybody actually see God?”

Billy’s mother thought for a moment then said, “God is a spirit, Billy, so you can’t really see him. He’s there but you can’t see him.”

Later that day when he was tossing a ball with his father in the backyard, Billy said, “Daddy, is it possible to see God?”

Billy’s father said, “That’s a good question, Billy. Why do you ask?”

“The Sunday School teacher said, “Gods is real, but how do I know? I can’t see him. Where is he?”

“Well, Billy, your teacher’s right,” his father said. “God is real but you can’t actually see him. You see, he lives in your heart.”

Billy was still inquisitive about the whole subject. It seemed to him that if God was real and alive, you should be able to see him.

The next Saturday Billy was scheduled to go to a baseball game with his grandfather. When they got to the park a lady was standing on the corner holding the hand of a small girl. They both wore well-worn, tattered clothes. The lady said, “Mister, do you have a couple of dollars? We haven’t eaten today and I’d like to get a sandwich for my daughter. I don’t need nothing for myself. I can get by, but she needs something. She’s hungry.”

Billy’s grandfather reached into his pocket, pulled out his billfold, and gave the lady twenty dollars. “You go get a sandwich for both of you and make sure your daughter gets some milk.”

Tears welled in the woman’s eyes and she said, “God bless you, mister.”

When Billy and his grandfather got to the entrance of the stadium, a man and a small boy were standing there. The man seemed to be searching for something on the ground and the boy was sobbing.

“What’s going on?” Billy’s grandfather asked. “Why all the tears?”

“I promised my son I would take him to the ballgame for his birthday,” the man said. “He’s been looking forward to it for a whole month, but somehow I lost our tickets. The tickets were in my pocket but somehow they’re gone and the game’s sold out. No more tickets are available.”

Billy’s grandfather thought for a moment and then said, “Well, I’ll tell you what. Since birthday’s come just once a year and should be happy occasions, I want you to take our tickets and we’ll go another day. Is that alright with you, Billy?”

Billy looked at the tears on the boy’s face and said, “Sure, grandpa. That’s fine. We’ll go another day.”

Billy’s grandfather gave the tickets to the man who was reluctant to take them.

“No, I insist,” the grandfather said. “Take them. It’s a birthday gift to your son. Go celebrate.”

The man finally took the tickets and his son walked over and hugged the grandfather. He had a smile on his face and said, “Thank you, sir. This is the best birthday ever.”

On the way home Billy and his grandfather talked about how happy the boy and his father were to get the tickets. Suddenly grandfather pulled the car to the curb and stopped. He said, “Looks like a lady is having a problem.”

The grandfather got out of the car and walked to the car in front of them where a lady was trying to change a tire. She seemed relieved that the grandfather offered to help. Soon the tire was changed and the lady smiled and thanked the grandfather. “I’m so grateful,” she said. “I had surgery just last week and didn’t have much strength to change a tire. I sure needed a good Samaritan to come by and you did. Thank you so much.”

Billy’s grandfather dropped him off at home and later that evening at the dinner table, Billy said to his mother, father and Katie, “Guess what? I saw God today. Several times. He really can be seen.”







I live simple. I laugh. I love. I write. Since retiring, I enjoy writing every day for the sheer pleasure of it -- no hassle, no stress, no pressure. Just pure joy. And I enjoy exploring different genres, attempting to discover where I feel most comfortable. I thoroughly enjoy meeting the interesting people that show up in my stories, delving a bit into their personal lives, and observing how they deal with life. I'm often amazed at what they say and do. I also enjoy the challenge of non-fiction and the amazing things I learn while researching and writing. And for a change of pace, I express myself in oil painting, thoroughly convinced that every painting is not just oil on canvas, rather it tells a story. My family and my faith mean a lot to me. I enjoy being a husband, father, and grandfather. I live simple. I laugh. I love. I write.

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