It’s easy to miss the journey en route to the destination—to overlook or brush aside the little things, the simple things.
Sometimes in the midst of all the crazy tug of war and the growing pains I wonder what my kids are thinking. What memories do they have of growing up? So, I was blessed to overhear a conversation between my daughters about a little boy they babysit sometimes. Here it is:
“He’s got a great personality. But I just want to take him and mold him—give him my childhood. I want to take him to the library and make him sit there and read for hours!”
I’m so glad we have those memories. We were the only ones with a book bag with wheels at the time and we always had library fines; still do. I often fell asleep reading my children bedtime stories.
Anna Lisa my little bow legged ballerina has turned into a beauty. Her name means bountiful and gracious or graceful—and she is. It doesn’t seem that long ago that she was popping the heads off her Barbie dolls, and then she graduated to lopping chicken heads off on a Kenyan mission trip.
“Mom,” she said. “ I’m late because on my way home there was a pick-up truck in front of me filled with dirt and it smelled like Africa—so I didn’t take my turn. I followed it for awhile just so I could smell it.”
One evening she stood sobbing in the living room after a really rough day as summer camp unit director. “Anna,” her father said, “You don’t have to work there. You could get a job at another camp where the kids are easier to deal with.”
“But I don’t want to quit. I love it there.” she said as tears streamed down her face.
She loves the tough kids. She graduated last May and now she is an English teacher. She is one of my 11 interviewees in my prior article featuring teachers.
Sometimes those little things aren’t so little—like taking your kids to the library. Like the smell of Kenyan dirt and how the simple smile of a little child can light the darkest place.
Like taking the time to read my article featuring the voices of those 11 amazing teachers by clicking here.
Know this, faithful mom—your measure is immeasurable. You bring things to your family that they can’t hire out, buy out, or do without… CLICK HERE to continue reading my article, The Measure of a Mom, published on Southern Ohio Christian Voice.
Have a blessed Mother’s Day!
© 2019 Rachael M Colby | Tattoo It On Your Heart