Five is a great age. Not coincidentally, that’s how old Teresa is. She turned 5 this month, all excited to have her friends come over for a party, ready to show them around the house and let them see her room. Afterward, she said the best part was playing “Pin the Nose on the Snowman,” which has the advantages of it being easy to both draw a snowman poster and cut out carrot shapes from orange construction paper. Her favorite was either that or having 30 or so helium-filled balloons bobbing on the ceiling with their ribbons hanging down. She and her guests were having so much fun that they never got around to eating the cake, although they did sing to her … and then attacked the pull-string piñata that Frank bravely held above their heads. Caroline, for her part, helped string beads for necklaces and operated the music for freeze dance. These parties are much easier when you have teenagers you can press into service. Or bribe. After the party, she opened and played with her gifts and basked in the glow of people stopping by or calling on the phone and wishing her happy birthday. I guess that’s why I like the age so much. Five is old enough to comprehend what’s expected, like understanding that a party host should do her best to help her guests have fun, but young enough to be excited by celebrating a birthday with pizza and cake and homemade games. Five-year-olds sing and dance without embarrassment. They cheer when they win and sometimes pout when they lose, but you usually know exactly what’s going on with them. Jesus said to suffer the little children to come to him, and that our faith should be as a little child’s. I think that part of that is because little children wear their hearts on their sleeves, and on their faces. Five is generally considered the beginning of the school years, although Teresa and many of her peers started preschool at 3. It still marks a watershed, from getting-ready-for-school to more academic work. For many, it means spending more time outside the cocoon of the family. Five is when babyhood seems to be gone, as children are dressing and feeding themselves and strollers remain put away, if not discarded just yet. Five-year-olds are counting and starting to read and asking questions about everything, maybe especially when you wish they wouldn’t (“How old are you, mom? That’s really old. Are you going to die soon?”). But look on a 5-year-old sound asleep in her bed, and you’ll see the angel face that you first fell in love with. The baby is growing up, yes, but she’s still there, for just a little while yet.