I asked that
question to my granddaughter.
At that moment
we were out in the country, and if you looked to the west across the hay field,
you could see the spent brome, now tan, along with its tender green
undergrowth, and you could see too how this field ran into the woods along the
west line. Those trees were that rich green of late summer, and their colors
then merged into the blues and grays of the sky. The grays by the way, were
about to lower into a mist.
“I think rainbow
colors,” she said. Which was just a young girl’s way of saying that she thought
God liked all colors equally.
Of course I had
to agree. Every color is special and necessary and important in its own right.
So what’s God’s
favorite color?
I guess only
people pick favorites.
