A child’s heart

I just have to share a few things that have recently struck me about this whole mothering thing.  I am seeing my heart walk around outside my body and sometimes that can be quite painful and heartwearming at the same time.  I’ve been watching my daughter through the photographer’s lens, which for me adds a poetic, timeless dimention to her youth… playing with dolls or with the ipad, at the grocery store or at home… her imagination afire with ideas.
When she’s galloping down the hall outside our apartment and then she stops just before the parking garage because she knows she needs to hold my hand, and she turns, waits for me, holds out her hand for me, and smiles at me, I melt a little.
When my husband asks her who her favorite person in the whole world is and she says “Mommy, of course,” I melt a little more.
When she kisses my mosquito bites or asks me at bedtime if I’ve had a good day or asks my husband “how was work, Daddy,” she shows a compassion that I don’t think is common for young toddlers and I marvel (and melt) at her.
When I feel her little hand in mine, I know that this moment is the same as all the moments in my mothering of her.  She trusts me, she needs me, she is right here in this moment.
Her heart is wide open with love for all of life – for new ideas, for things large and small, for singing and galloping and laughing.  And my heart has completely melted.

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