One of the most precious memories that I have from when the girls were tiny is reading to them at night.
Freshly bathed in their little girl nightgowns, with their curls still damp from the tub, smelling preciously of baby powder and clean skin, they would lay together in Caitlin’s big girl bed and we would tell them stories. They loved to be read to as most children do, but their favorite was always when Terry and I would tell stories from our own childhood. My “little girl stories”, and his “little boy stories”… there were an unlimited supply of them and the girls loved that we could sit there and tell one after another.
However, when reading from a book was okay with them, their first choice was always Midnight Moon by Clyde Watson. Their memories provided them the words to read along, even Gracie, at the tender age of one, could follow along, and Lily would add little hand motions, a preview of a life filled with dance. The story was indelibly impressed on their minds and I would hear them recite the words at random times, like riding in the car, or waiting for dinner, or playing together, always getting the inflection just right…
“Hop into bed
And snuggle down in
And pull the covers
Up to your chin
And I’ll tell you a secret
About the night…”
It is a beautiful, magical story about visiting the man in the moon and his little brown dog, and by the end, each of the girls was yawning with the contentment that comes from feeling safe and protected and loved.
Caitlin came over to the house today, to re-collect all of her glass bead making equipment that had been safely tucked away for her… a beautiful story all it’s own… but as we were going through boxes, I found the treasure that is Midnight Moon, and it flooded my mind with a myriad of thoughts and emotions. I decided that it would be most appropriate to have this book available for my new little grandbaby. I may even make an MP3 file so that this new blessing will be able to listen to NonnaLisa tell the story whenever he or she desires. I can feel the joy bubbling up inside me as I type this.
We cherished those moments of closeness and comfort that reading and heartfelt prayers to our Heavenly Father provided our daughters before bedtime. I would blow kisses to each of them all the way down the hall and all the way down the stairs. Usually there was a light breeze and I could still smell their little girlness… I still can… they will always be my little babies… even with babies of their own.
When we establish security for our children by having a routine, something that only we can provide; when we appreciate the blessing that is their childhood, something that can never be reclaimed; and when we embrace the challenge and the joy of being our children’s earthly parents, something that God chose just for us; when we love our families… we are LIVING WELL.
LIVE WELL.
Lisa
A note about Oliver: As Terry and I are catching up on our day together, sitting and chatting, sharing stories from the day, Oliver participates in his own beautiful way by singing his own stories right along with us. All the stories sound similar to me, but I am sure that each is unique and special to him. So eventually I head toward his cage and take him out and hold him in my hand while he brushes his sweet little face against my cheek and I tell him what a wonderful story he shares. And he says thank you as he continues to sing his beautiful song.
Loves Doves 