Like many parents, my husband and I spent a lot of time picking out our children’s names. We searched through family history and heroes of ours as well as Biblical names that had particular significance to us. We have always been pleased with our name selections for our children. They each have names that they can be proud of, help them to make sense of who they are, and build an identity from strength and grace.

But, what do I know…

On a hot summer afternoon, the children and I had been traveling for several hours to visit my parents. The road was long and there wasn’t a lot to entertain the children along the way. My five year old, Locke, had his forehead pressed against the window, fogging up the glass, watching the road signs. He asked me several times what the signs said.

I was glad he was noticing print. I was pleased that he was in the beginning stages of learning to read.

I heard that sweet little voice again,

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“What does that say?”

“Winfield.”

Silence………more silence…..

“I wish I was called Winfield.”

Well….okay. What do I know?

On occasion he gets his wish and we call him Winfield.