Sometimes children can say something that just sort of makes you pause.
I remember when my son was really young and he climbed up on the kitchen table so he could get to us, put his arms around his father ‘s neck and mine looked at each of us and then said, “I love my life.” He then climbed back down and went right back to what he was doing. Leaving us speechless and somewhat teary-eyed.
My nephew Trey is the quiet type. When he last came to our house for a visit I have a vivid memory of him sitting out back, while his three brothers and my two children were bouncing crazily on the trampoline shrieking and having some serious trampoline wars.
He sat quietly in a rocking chair looking out over our back field, watching the horses munch on some grass while he was munching on some cereal. My husband was sitting next to him. It was an interesting view for me. My husband is 6’5″ and Trey is … well, he’s tiny, a mere 4 years old.
I heard my husband ask, “Can I have one?” Trey methodically chose the perfect one—purple, his uncle’s favorite color—looked way up at him, placed it in his hand, gave a little nod, and they both went right back to horse watching. A simple exchange, but just so sweet.
I realize that’s an odd memory, but nonetheless it is in my head and the simplicity of the moment struck me somehow.
Today I got a note from my little brother that made me chuckle. Here’s what my brother wrote:
Trey just said to me, “Daddy, I don’t like Elmo anymore.”
“Why not, Trey?” I asked.
He replied, “Because God just changed my mind about him.”
I suggested to my brother that he write that down. That, and all the other adorable things his boys say.
I want you to do the same: start a journal for each of your children and write it all down. Though you think you’ll never forget all those adorable and insightful things they utter to you daily, you will. Time and life have a way of robbing your memory of those precious moments.
And if you wouldn’t mind, take a moment and write one of your own favorites in the comment section. We all need to take a moment to pause.
Copyright © 2009 by Tracey Eyster. All rights reserved.
