Wednesday, November 18, 2015


While we were away last week, we had an opportunity to spend time with a sweet wee sprite: a tiny 3 and a half year old girl with a sunny disposition and an impish grin. It has been ages since last we interacted with such a young child -- Offspring the Third is on the cusp of seventeen  -- and it was very enjoyable, indeed. Such a tender little bird of a child.

We read picture books, and colored in coloring books, and attempted to make various shapes out of Play-Doh, and we stuck stickers and built short towers out of dominoes.We sat by the campfire and looked for fireworks. And when she grew tired while perched upon my lap, I sang her a quiet lullaby and rocked her until she fell asleep.

As I held her while she slept, my arms grew tired, Still, I did not relinquish her to her bed until it was necessary. There is something about holding a sleeping child that nearly defies description: it is a visceral peace and contentment, a wordless knowledge that a small human being is comfortable and safe. As I held that tiny girl, I recalled those moments when the Offspring were young and I held them the same way. My heart sighed. So long ago.

Bless the wee bairn.

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