It's an easy kind of day to be grateful. Lazy and full of moments that whisper of beauty and contentment if I stopped to listen. And today, I did. I stopped to note a girl sitting in a movie sighing in her first infatuation. I knew the characters on the screen would always hold happy, wistful place in her heart. I saw the way she stopped by the mirror when the show ended to smooth her hair and reapply shine to her lips. The movements not yet practiced enough to be natural. My heart aching a little - just a little - at how soon they would be.
Later, basking in the chaos of our weekly dinner, I watched the backs of my boys as one led the other down the hall, trying to imprint the scene like a snapshot in my mind. The tall boy - nearly a man - stooping to guide his miniature counterpart.
Then, tonight, with all of my being I marked the feel of two small bodies pressed against me. Savoring their weight and scent as we read our bedtime stories. It was Christmas stories tonight; the beginning of a new season. A season I find myself anticipating with a tentative and unexpected peace.