Not the language typically found in the Holy Scriptures, but these words—written in pencil in chunky kid print on a torn piece of paper—stay sandwiched between two sheer leaves of my Bible. I always enjoy catching a glimpse of the phrase when I’m searching for a passage in Ruth or Romans, Chronicles or Colossians.

I especially like the way the girl who wrote the words—a lanky and freckled 11-year-old—turned the two "o’s" in the wood "cool" into a pair of long-lashed eyes peering from behind groovy glasses.

Why this piece of paper has continued to land in the "keep" stack every few months when I clean out my Bible is beyond me. I can come up with only one possible explanation as to why it always makes the cut, right beside the bookmark made by my kindergartner, encouraging notes from two friends, and the current church bulletin.

Here’s my theory: As a woman who spends so much time doing things that seem so "uncool"—from passing out globs of antibacterial gel to my kids at restaurants before we eat to saying "just because I said so" at least seven times a day—it’s kind of cool to be called "cool." Especially by someone younger than myself.

I remember clearly the specific circumstances that earned me the tween-age affirmation that long-ago Wednesday night. As a small group leader, I was supposed to sit with and help keep order among the girls in my own class of third and fourth-graders during the worship session of our church’s mid-week activities. Since we had plenty of leaders in my group and the teachers in the grader higher were shorthanded, I decided to pitch in by settling myself into the middle of a row of big ol’ fifth graders.

As we listened to the speaker, the girl to my left, a student I didn’t know, began to doodle on the back of an offering envelope. She kept glancing up at me as if she was waiting for me to tell her to stop drawing and pay attention to the speaker. But being a confirmed doodler myself, not only did I not tell her to stop, I dug a pen from my purse, tore some bigger sheets of paper from my notebook, and began showing her some of my own doodling tricks. While the missionary in the front of the sanctuary described his latest trip to South America, the girl and I began to wage a veritable doodling duel right there on the fifth pew from the front.

I deftly turned the word "boy" into a picture of a boy. She dexterously drew Donald Duck. I carefully traced out the profile of a little house with an "x" in it—without ever lifting up my pencil. And then she casually wrote the word "cool," embellishing it with sunglasses just as I described above.

Next thing I knew, the speaker had stopped talking, the director of our program had offered a closing prayer, and our doodlefest came to an end. But before she filed into the aisle to leave with the rest of the students, the grinning girl beside me scribbled the words "you are nice and" in front of the word "cool" and tossed me the sheet of paper.

Am I sensible? Sometimes. Polite and practical? I try to be. Germ conscious? Always. I also try to be self-controlled, cautious and considerate. But am I cool? Not very often, although I certainly have had my moments of unabandoned coolness.

In case you don’t believe me, I have a piece of paper in my Bible that proves it.