Everyday Life: My little good samaritan

Last night as my husband was putting the two year old to sleep, I heard loud wails escaping from behind the closed door.
They quickly faded as I finished giving the baby a bath. After my hubby had snuggled the two year old to sleep what seemed like an hour later, I asked him what the hollering was all about. And he shared with me a moment he had with our son that I'm terribly sorry I missed.
Apparently, as my husband was reading the story about The Good Samaritan from Gabe's little Bible, my little guy began asking questions (you remember, he learned what the word why means a few days ago) about why the robbers beat up the man before my husband could even get through the entire story.
"It not nice to give owies," the toddler said to my husband solemnly.
My husband agreed and explained the robbers beat the man up so they could steal his donkey, his clothes, his food and money.
Our two year old, tears in his eyes, looked at his daddy and cried "Why they take his food and his monies? It not nice to take his food and his monies. That not nice!"
Keep in mind he's not phased by the fact that the robbers took the guy's clothes because Gabe is a nudist at heart and insists on running the house naked daily, so that doesn't seem like a biggie for him. But they gave him owies, and they took his food? AND his monies?! Well, that was too much for his little mind to handle, and he exploded into tears of empathy and grief for the poor man in the story.
Luckily, the story in his little Bible doesn't end with the man permanently defeated because a good samaritan comes along after others pass the poor man without offering aid. My husband explained to Gabe that the good samaritan was the nicest man out of all the men who passed because he stopped to help the poor, injured man by tending to his wounds, giving him food and helping him get on his way.
The two year old was very satisfied that someone finally stopped and, of course, wanted to know why on Earth none of the other men stopped. These were big lessons for such a little guy, but hubby explained it at best as he could. And it took quite awhile.
But it was worth it.
This morning when baby EJ was crying while I was cleaning out the bathroom sink, the two year old ran over to him, placed the pacifier he'd lost back in the baby's mouth, said "it's OK baby, I help you," then declared that he, too, was a "good samaritan."
I swear my heart could have exploded with love as I beamed at him, praised his kindness and thanked God that my little boy has such empathy as a two year old. Because if at two years old his empathy runs that deep for a person in a story (and his baby brother), I cannot imagine what a caring husband, daddy, friend and citizen he will blossom into as he grows. And the world, as well all know, really, desperately needs more good samaritans.
Luckily, the world won't just gain my son, but it'll also gain fellow blogger Corinne's son, too.
I just love that these little boys will be the men of our world in the not too far future.