Colored Jesus...

"Daddy, what color are my eyes?" He was driving, the windows down the Alabama April wind blowing in through the vehicle erasing the need for air conditioning. She was riding, back seat, booster seat, inquisitive.

"They're hazel, baby," glancing up in the rear view mirror, briefly, seeing his beautiful baby girl sitting up in her "big girl seat." She was resting her head against the shoulder strap of the seat belt like a hammock, looking out the window in the back of the minivan watching the passing trees and clouds.

"No they're not daddy; they're silver... like the stars." He could see a big grin corner her cheek. Her head remained turned toward the passing scenery.  She was seeing her eyes twinkle like the stars at that moment.

Dad just grinned a bit listening to the wind whip into the car now; feeling the wind in his hand as it stretch out the window slightly moving up and down as though it were riding an invisible roller coaster.  No radio playing; no sound except road noise and whipping wind.

"Daddy, what color is the sun?"

"Orange, baby girl," still driving, watching the intersections cautiously as they passed through the neighborhood.

"No, the sun is yellow, daddy."

He grins again looking up, glancing again in the rear view mirror, catching brief a grin back from his little girl. Her eyes did look like stars.

"Daddy, do you know which one is my favorite Jesus?"

"No, honey, which one's your favorite Jesus?" intrigued to see how she was going to answer.

"The purple one."

"Where on Earth did you see a purple Jesus?" asking the rear view mirror with nearly a laugh.  He was expecting to hear "baby Jesus," or "Jesus on the cross," or maybe the picture of him holding a small child on his knee that she saw in Sunday school or in one her books from home.

"You know, the one I colored purple, remember?" 

"Oh sure, baby..., the purple one."

"I don't like the yellow Jesus; the purple Jesus is my favorite one. Which Jesus is your favorite Jesus, daddy?"

Driving still, he didn't answer her for a while and just pondered the question. "Which is my favorite Jesus?"  Thinking in the framework of modern Christianity, there were so many to chose from... sort of like chosing a crayon from the box.