Music streamed throughout our house. She skipped down the stairs all ready to bake her strawberry cake. I smiled at her Spiderwoman dress (I mean, after all, who DOESN’T cook as Spiderwoman?). He trailed behind her, art supplies in hand.
“Mommy, I’m so glad I’m a big enough girl to bake things on my own.” She tilted her head, “But not too big.” She touched her finger to her chin, and those eyes sparkled a light more brilliant than sunshine.
“And I’m going to just be close,” Bear called, flashing dimples as he ducked his head and set-up his supplies on the dining room table. “It’s good to be close.”
I measured out the ingredients for pizza dough and listened as she hummed along to the music. We worked quietly side by side, and Cooper Dooper took turns sitting at each of our feet.
It may not be considered spectacular in the eyes of many, this simple afternoon, but it was the beautiful ordinary of today that God knew I needed.
I am so very, very blessed.
“Do not ask your children
to strive for extraordinary lives.
Such striving may seem admirable,
but it is the way of foolishness.
Help them instead to find the wonder
and the marvel of an ordinary life.
Show them the joy of tasting
tomatoes, apples and pears.
Show them how to cry
when pets and people die.
Show them the infinite pleasure
in the touch of a hand.
And make the ordinary come alive for them.
The extraordinary will take care of itself.