love

The girls asked if they could have “a spoonful” of frosting. I said yes and then walked into the kitchen to see them brandishing these spoons. The smiles above are somewhat toned down from the maniacal ones I first saw.
Later I made quesadillas and Eden was eager to help. She got out her handy little safety knife and I gave her a small cutting board. She happily diced green peppers while I cut chicken, sliced peppers and onions and then cooked it all up. We talked while we worked and she would reach over to grab additional peppers as needed. It was such a natural gesture. She didn’t ask for more, she just helped herself as any one would who was helping me cook dinner. I told her how much I love cooking with her – and it was true, not just motherly enthusiasm. Her quiet industry and graceful confidence brought beauty to, what could have been, a mundane task. Lovely.

https://alisonhodgson.com/2007/05/734/

This morning I awoke at 5:30 to a dog whimpering to be let out. My good husband got up and began to pull on some pants and a sweatshirt. I whispered my thanks and rolled over to try to get back to sleep and then I heard a loud wail.

It was Eden.

I ran to her room and found her scrabbling around her bed crying, “I can’t find…” I couldn’t divine her quarry.

“What can’t you find?” I was at her side by now.

“Hello Kitty!” She wept. This is her pillow that is encased by that feline’s cheerful visage. My arm was resting on it at the head of the bed where it always is.

“Here she is,” I said and just as quickly as the crisis began, it ended.

I crawled in beside her as she snuggled in, popping her thumb into her mouth and snuffling her blanket. I straightened the duvet, settling it over us and then turned on my side, pulling her too me and tucking my body around hers. In the same motion she drew her cold little feet up, resting and warming them on my thighs.

We lay there, the only sound her furious thumb sucking. I kissed her soft cheek which smelled sourly of an earlier drool and quietly, so very quietly, whispered my joy and adoration. It is a gift to be in the middle of something and truly be in it, to recognize and not miss it.

This is life’s struggle – to hear the cry and compulsion of love, to answer, despite competing needs, distractions and discomforts, to give oneself fully, and in giving, to receive.