As our family was enjoying a delicious Thanksgiving dinner, my four-year-old granddaughter stopped chomping on her drumstick long enough to look at her mother, smile, and say, "I really like turkey on the cob."

My eight-year-old daughter Sally was proudly explaining her science lesson to me. She learned that herbivores are plant eaters and carnivores are meat eaters.

I decided to test her knowledge by naming an animal and having her classify it.

"Tiger."

"Carnivore."

"Rabbit."

"Herbivore."

"Wolf."

"Carnivore."

"Anteater."

"Herbivore."

"An anteater's a herbivore?" I asked. "Don't they eat ants? Wouldn't that make them a carnivore?"

In an instant, Sally had it figured out. "There's not much meat on an ant."

At a family birthday, my four-year-old grandson David noticed my white hair and that of his paternal grandfather.

"Why do you both have the same hair?" David asked.

"Perhaps your grandpa and I worry too much," I said, "or maybe we went to the same barber."

A few days later, I took David to the barber. Most of the shop's patrons had white hair, too.

After David hopped on the chair, the barber asked, "What can I do for you, young man?"

David replied, "I'll have a brown haircut, please."

On the ride home from church, I always ask my wife Mary what she thinks of my sermon. One Sunday, my six-year-old son Seth surprised me by saying I had preached a great sermon.

"What makes a sermon good?" I asked.

"It makes me sleepy like when Mommy reads me a story!"

While we were visiting friends in Mississippi, a terrific thunderstorm rolled through. My friend's four-year-old granddaughter was standing at the window?fascinated by the lightning.

After a few minutes she said in reverent awe, "I just saw heaven crack open and part of God's glory spilled out!"

I was teaching a geography lesson to my kindergarten class using a map of North America. I pointed to Canada, and asked the children what it was.

Five-year-old Savanna exclaimed, "I know! It's God!"

Astonished, I asked her why she thought that.

"Because," she said, remembering the pledge of allegiance we say every morning, "the United States is 'one nation under God.' "

Our seven-year-old daughter Lacie is used to seeing her handyman father repair items around the house. On several occasions she has observed him spray WD-40 on rusty objects to lubricate them.

One day Lacie was attempting to put on a pair of jeans. However the snap was giving her trouble.

Spotting a touch of rust on the snap, she called out, "Mom, I think it needs some of that WWJD on it."

I wanted my daughter Kira to have a good understanding of the true meaning of Christmas by focusing on the birth of the Savior and downplaying Santa Claus.

The Christmas she was two-and-a-half, we were walking through the mall on our way to see Santa when I said, "Kira, you know Santa is make-believe."

Kira stopped in her tracks. "Don't tell me that!" she scolded. "I'm too little yet."