Almost to the library’s exit, he stops and leans in the office
window. He’s Dennis the Menace with a
buzz cut. His puffy red winter coat hangs
unzipped and flapping, bright blue rain boots peak out from under brown
fleecy pants. Two library books travel
tucked under an arm.
“You organizing things?” he asks. The hand he talks with flaps along with his
words. I hang back, watching to see
whether the librarian will untangle his garbled words without my
intervention.
She does, and a short conversation ensues. He’s all charm and delight and she’s grateful
for an interruption.
Then, “Mom?” he asks, in his overly loud serious voice,
“What’s that heart shaped thing?”
It’s a whiteout dispenser, not exactly heart shaped, but
close enough. The librarian demonstrates
its abilities before the twins who peer in wonder.
“Mom?!,” he shouts again though I’m standing only a few feet
behind. He’s done with casual
conversation and pushing through the door.
“Can you get me one of those? I
can use it in my office.”
He has an office he built himself, under the laundry table
and, naturally, he keeps it well-stocked with office supplies. These he keeps separate from his tools which
are stored in a wide variety of tool boxes ranging from metal to cardboard to
plastic. And the tools and office
supplies are never mingled with his “weapons,” which he keeps in stashes in the
living room and his bedroom.
He’s my little “worker man,” the one who casually announces
how he will split his time as an adult, between working and helping me out at
home.
Before the brief window conversation he stood exploring the
library’s vestibule while I checked out a tower of books. “What’s this? What’s that?
Where’s the light switch?” he yells.
“Where’s the light switch?! I
found a light!” Like some little grand
inquisitor, he surveys every new environment, hunting out any unknown gadget or
machine.
In the children’s section, he hovers near the board books. He chooses a bible story book, because it has
a handle, a Dora book (because of its flaps) among others. His selections baffle me. I don’t want to bring home board books,
they’re boring and so small they’re too easily lost. In a compromise, I sort through the pile,
paring it down to a manageable mole hill and suggest we sit for a few minutes
to read the ones we aren’t bringing home.
For once, they accept my suggested deal without
negotiation. We pile together in a big,
red armchair forming a mountain of people, boots and coats. The twins rest, one on each leg, leaning back
against me as I lean back into the chair.
The weight of their bodies on me is a welcome comfort, the heat and
pressure of presence like I would imagine a hot stone massage might feel.
Their weight in my lap feels like coming home, always, and in the midst of its joy and comfort, I’m aware of this season’s ending.
We wander through a sparkly princess book about friends and
then two more picture books snatched from a nearby windowsill. The boys bake on top of me, zipped up fully
in their winter coats. They grow still
under the soothing waves of words and I feel first one then another yawn expand
and then deflate Levi’s barrel chest.
I’m caught here in this time between where one
moment my lap is filled with drowsy little boy and the next he’s amicably chatting up the librarian and collecting resources for the next time he needs to “work for awhile” in his office.
This is four, this moment between inhale and exhale that
lasts only as long as you can hold your breath.
But the truth is, it never lasts, nothing does.
Rather than holding my breath, I’m learning to breathe
deep, to lean-in to the blessing of each moment as we move along together,
these boys, these blessings and I.
* * *
Guess what? We finally have a #SmallWonder button! If you want to use it, simply copy the image, then add it to your post or sidebar with a link to www.afieldofwildflowers.blogspot.com.
Are you or do you have writer friends local to the PA, Maryland, New Jersey area? If so, would you consider attending or sharing the information about the upcoming writing retreat to be held here at the farm house? You can find more details under the Writing Retreat tab.
Welcome to the #SmallWonder link-up.
What if we chose to deliberately look for the small moments of wonder, the small sparks of presence, of delight or sorrow, of true humanity in which we meet God?
That’s my proposal – that we gather here each week to share one moment of Wonder from each of our days.
You’re invited to link-up a brief post about a small moment of wonder. Don’t worry if your post is too long, too short, or not just right – you’re welcome to come as you are.
While you’re here, please do take a look around and encourage at least one other blogger with a comment.
What a beautiful "small wonder" to share with us. I remember well those trips to the libraries with my girls. Such fun! We'd bring home the biggest stack of books possible. ha. I still love going to the library–it's one of my favorite hangouts. Thanks for sharing this, Kelly. Your life is so full of adventures with these little ones!
Great memories of piles of books, lap-fuls of boys. So thankful that my youngest (14) still likes to read together out loud, and that I have a little grandboy who enjoys all the books that I have missed.
My daughter and grandsons what a blessing they are!
I love that inqusitive age where a simple trip to the local library turns into a grand adventure! Thank for sharing!
There is something magical about the age of four! A sense of wonder and endless energy. A childlike moment, just on the verge of beginning to grow up. You have captured it so well. I remember those days with my sons. They used to play *business* all the time together. Always had some sort of venture going. You know what just makes me smile?! All these years later, they own their own business together, and work side-by-side every day! Sounds to me like you have a budding entrepreneur in your life, too!!
Enjoy!
GOD BLESS!
I love the idea of leaning-in to each blessing, and of enjoying each small wonder life brings our way to the fullest. As a daddy to three–soon to be four–girls, I know that time goes by far to fast. Thank you for these weekly reminders to enjoy the many small blessings that life sends my way.
I love this visit to the library with your little guy. And it is true, these moments pass way too quickly. I so miss driving my son to school & having him read me jokes the entire way 🙂
always love, love, love your stories of your little ones. It brings back such warm memories of my many times at the library with my son when he was younger. Such precious moments. I love your writing and the subtle descriptions of the children's personalities. Beautiful! Perfect #smallwonder button!
always love, love, love your stories of your little ones. It brings back such warm memories of my many times at the library with my son when he was younger. Such precious moments. I love your writing and the subtle descriptions of the children's personalities. Beautiful! Perfect #smallwonder button!
Kelly, I love the way you told this story of you and your sons! It was almost like I was there. Such wonderful times to be cherished as they grow up so fast. Blessings to you!
This post is full the the good stuff, the cream on top of the milk – and you've got it right. I wish I'd learned it earlier – to just lean in and savor the richness in a sweet moment going right! What a precious lap-full you have!
So glad to discover you here. Your post warmed by heart as I recalled when my children were in that season that went far to fast! So glad to discover you and enjoyed the visit today as your OH neighbor.
I love this post. I also feel the weight of my children against my body as one of the most comforting, fulfilling sensations in life. Mine are 10 and 9 now, so those moments are fleeting. Love the encouragement to lean in to each moment.
Oh that was just so beautiful. I'm so glad Kathy shared this post over on her site! I was with you in those moments you so beautifully described. I remember those tiny blips on the radar of time… they are gone now, but oh do I remember.
Thank you for such a moving testimony to motherhood. <3
Oh that was just so beautiful. I'm so glad Kathy shared this post over on her site! I was with you in those moments you so beautifully described. I remember those tiny blips on the radar of time… they are gone now, but oh do I remember.
Thank you for such a moving testimony to motherhood. <3