Someday we will look back on these days and say to ourselves, in our cracked old voices, “Well, honey, I don’t know how we did it back then.”
In my husband’s rubber boots, I walk through the crunchy-wet snow to check how things are growing. Brave and hardy, new-sprung leaves are poking through the ice. I always worry about them, and wish I could tuck them up warm. They need another mama while the earth pulls her nasty pranks on them and leaves them to shiver.
4. When one of my children takes a completely free-choice step toward Good. …and a bonus, because this one cannot be left out: 5. When we sing.