Grateful

Today I am grateful for:

 

1. Pot Belly Pigs

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2.The Toys r Us Christmas Catalogue

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3. Books

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4. Monday night Scripture reading

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5.Grandma’s that give the best hugs

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7. Long country roads to run

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8. Santa hats that keep little girls heads warm and hearts full of holiday cheer

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9. The privledge to guide these three little ladies through life

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10.  An incredible year of transition

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Happy Thanksgiving!

 

 

To Choose Joy

She carries her belongings in a black trash bag, gripping it in one hand.

Her other holds a sterile glove someone has inflated for her.

The hand balloon as she calls it, is making her laugh.

She wants me to see it.

She clutches the prized possession. I wonder if the nurse or doctor who blew up the hand knows how much it now means to her.

We laugh while the elevator descends.

Today it stops at most every floor. On other days I would be annoyed. My internal self volleying a comment about how I wish we had express elevators.

Today I don’t mind. The conversation with this little girl of 5 or 6 is the distraction I need.

She talks to me about getting her nails painted a sparkly pink, about what she is doing in school.

My eyes wander back to the trash bag and I wonder why this child must carry her belongings like that.

I think about my own three girls and all the purses; the backpacks that line their closets and creep out of their dress up bins.

I know from the worn jacket, the tattered shoes that are most likely to small, that this young lady does not have a dress up bin to go home too. There are no walk in closets filled with more purses than any one child should have.

Her bright smile.

The laugh that fills up the small space.

She has made my day.

The elevator doors open a final time in our lobby and she follows her care taker out. She turns her head to take one last look at me, waves her hand balloon and yells “GOOD-BYE”.

Today I have witnessed joy in its purest form.

I feel privileged for the reminder.

For the Dancing and the Dreaming

She dances for me at least three times a day.

She tells me of her fears.

She recounts her dreams.

I’m not always present to see the waltz or hear the words that describe what goes bump in the night.

My eyes trained on the chicken that I’m currently burning.

My ears listening to the internal dialogue about the way I should have run that 3pm meeting.

As I finish her bath last night I pull the plug on the drain.

I grab the clothes she will wear to bed and wander in and out of the bathroom while she enjoys the last few moments of water play.

I catch her then on her knees and elbows, chin supported by her hands, simply watching the water swirl down the drain.

“Momma come look! The water is dancing”.

I have heard her.

In that moment I am moved.

Me now down on my knees. Us together watching the water twirl and move around the silver drain. Moments it takes until the last drop has left the tub.

“Momma can we do it again?”  she asks, as the smile spreads across her face in recognition of the secret wonder we now share.

“Tomorrow Ellery Jane we will watch the water dance”.

Yep tomorrow I will watch the dancing, I will listen to the dreams.

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