A Spring of Joy

Her footfalls were soft down the stairs this morning, muffled by her sleeper jammy feet. She peeked into the den where I sat under a warm blanket in the quietness of our dark house.

“Mommy?” she whispered, curling up next to me and looking deep into my eyes, “Did you see the snow?” I nodded, gazing at her barely contained excitement. “I did.”

Her eyes sparkled (don’t they always?), “Iiiiiii LOVE it!” she threw her arms up, jumped off the couch and proceeded to twirl through the room.

She has a magic all her own, and I believe in it.

Later that morning, after Daddy and the boys had gone to a service day at church, we donned our hats and gloves and took a walk in the snow. She spun and danced and drew pictures with her feet. Then we came inside to a glowing fire, hot chocolate and The Little Princess on tv.

It was magical. A magic I can believe in.

She creates it. Like artwork with footprints.

Only she creates artwork with her spirit every day.