At four, not much is done gently, but this gift, he knew, required delicate care.
Here mom! Look! he says bursting in through the patio door, I brought you this beautiful flower so you can look at it inside the house.
I was in the middle of cooking dinner, my hands in too many pots, trying not to burn and overboil, and I almost missed it.
But then he says,
I'll put it in water, so it can have a drink and stay alive.
And stay alive.
I abandon dinner, turn my back on the too many pots and instead oooohh and ahhh over the flower's loveliness, its faint smell of spring.
It needs water to stay alive, to revive after the picking, I repeat.
I catch glimpses of its brilliant purple through out the next day.
I marvel over its soft, royal petals and I think to myself, I've almost sold my soul, my heart for supposed gifts that are bigger, flashier but far less lovely.
But this gift?
These gifts that keep bringing more gifts?
They came free, picked just for me by a Loving Hand who seems to keep no memory of the times I've really blown it, the times I've almost sold myself in exchange for what seemed to be silver and shiny.
And I almost missed it all, all of it.
But grace flows, and so I didn't.
Share a picture, words, creation or list; just come to the table with the beauty in the simple moments of the week..
Reflect on the blessings that were apparent to you this week.
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