Ordinary Childhood

As I get up from the dinner table, I impulsively plant a kiss on my younger dauther's forehead, something I do frequently. As she happily munches on her dessert, a cinnamon streusel muffin, while I'm gathering the plates and utensils, I am struck by a plethora of thoughts. Funny something so ordinary and uninteresting should prompt such thoughts. Perhaps it is the very ordinariness of the moment that impressed me. Here sits my younger child, happy and content with enough food to eat, a warm comfortable house to live in, her own room, more toys than she needs, two parents who love her unconditionally, and lots of friends and family who also love her. Her life is ordinary, uneventful, happy. Not every child is so blessed, sadly. I try to tell my children this so that they will be appreciative of what they have, yet words are woefully inadequate. I continue clearing the table as Little Munchkin finishes her muffin then skips off to get ready for bed. Happy. She is happy. My children are happy. They are loved and cared for. They are warm and well-fed. And, I am grateful, so very grateful that I can provide a secure environment for them. I tell them frequently that I am so glad God gave them to me. I want them to always be sure of my love, to feel secure. I pray that one day they may realize how absolutely blessed they are now.