Just before the twilight gives way to the morning brightness, Sarah tumbles into my room and climbs into my bed. I lay here, feeling the warmth of my sweet daughter snuggling next to me. Her hair a tousled mess, it looks like the fairies danced in her hair again last night. Involuntarily, my hand reaches up and touches her face – so soft, so tender, I simply receive the gift as it is – a glimpse of heaven here on earth. I turn her eyes towards mine – those big, brown eyes – the windows to her soul – and I look deep into them and I whisper, “I love you. Every day. For the rest of my life.” And she whispers back, “I love you too,” as her lips curl into the sweetest smile. Then, as my arms reach around her, hugging her tight, my soul whispers a silent thanks to God, treasuring once again, this undeserved gift of motherhood.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Glimpses of Heaven
When the girls were younger, they would come and curl up in my bed every morning. I loved that waking-up-slowly time with them. Now they are older, they tend to wake each other up, play together, find some cartoons to watch - and somehow without warning - those sweet morning times with me ended. Yet, this morning, it happened again. And I just HAD to pause and write it down.