The Darling Sleeps

Something had been upsetting, just in the nick of bedtime. Her mother had put her kindly to bed, but there was some quirk of timing, some memory that ached. She watched her mother's back departing the room, and felt the utter disaster of it. As this was a Real Bed and not now a crib, she could get out of it. She got out of it. She was placed back in it. And so she cried out.

It's just that the day had been so variable! Her big brother had picked up the toy she had been thinking of wanting, just when she had been thinking of wanting it. Her younger brother had tragically knocked down the high tower she was building out of her (his) MagnaTiles, and then he had laughed, and this had caused no end of a row. It was all just so unfair.

But now she remembered the amazing heights of that day too. She had played in the front cul-de-sac with her daddy, and he had put orange cones out so that no cars would endanger her. She had shown him how well she rode her bike with NO TRAINING WHEELS, and he had told her what a big girl she was. She loved her daddy. He was just what a daddy could be and should be, and her eyes looked up at him with a sweet kind of wonder.

So for a moment she stopped crying, thinking about her daddy. Then she remembered the toy and the tower, and felt the sad tears creeping in. 

She was about to give herself up to it when her mother came quietly back into the room. She picked her up gently, and held her. She sang songs and told stories and petted the tiny blond head that lay there looking up. The little girl thought about her mother and what kind eyes she had. This mother who could dissolve everyone into helpless fits of laughter; who always understood the value of a princess dress; who listened to each of their woes and said Jesus would take care of them all. She looked up at her mother and felt suddenly sleepy. It was so comfortable there, in her arms.

Mother and daughter sat in the now quiet room; each weary for different reasons; each thankful in their own way.

The mother was about to lay her down again when softly she heard, "Mommy? I love..."

There were dishes to do, a load of laundry to fold, and a blog post to finish. But none of that mattered, just then.

This mattered.


See you along the way!
the SconeLady