This little 8 year old boy, so sweet, so full of abundant love. I relish the joy of being his mother.
Today, burdened by a very sore throat, painfully sensitive ears and a miserable cold I went out and mowed the lawn. I drudged through each painful dizzying step while my boys played so well together inside. During breaks to empty the clippings or to steady myself, I could hear them talking inside about dinner. This boy telling his younger brother that they shouldn't get a snack now because it was almost dinner and instead of arguing the answer was a surprising 'okay'.
I finished the lawn and dragged myself inside, not knowing what to do about dinner. What was my healthiest option with the least amount of effort I could think of. Finally I sucombed to my throats needs and made Lipton's Chicken noodle soup. I put the water on and went to change from my grass dusted clothing when this dear boy came in and asked if he could make dinner for me since he knew I didn't feel well. As luck would have it, I have taught him how to make this soup before due to the fact that it is his favourite and wanted to know how. He was pleased when I said yes, and was happy to see the look of relief and delight on my face from his offer. I thought his offer came with him knowing what we were having. He didn't. So thoughtful, he was willing to try and make anything I requested. He was specially pleased to find that he didn't need instruction to be able to help and took the reigns. He did a fine job of cooking, even setting our places and laddling it out for the 3 of us like an experienced pro. Even placing a plate over my bowl so it wouldn't get chilled before I got to eat it. He's such a loving soul, so kind and giving. I truely am lucky to be his mother.
He sees things with a gentle heart. Yesterday he wanted eggs for breakfast so I fried him two eggs mindlessly, placed them on a plate and gave them to him. I cracked two more for myself and stood there still mindlessly, and cooked them. He came back over and in my mindless, tired, cold suffering state I looked at him I'm sure with a blank look on my face as to why he was bringing them back to me. His face, full of beaming joy, glowed in his discovery. What he found when he looked down at his plate after he sat at the table was an utterly perfect heart. Each egg placed so perfectly you'd swear it was deliberate. A random, beautiful perfect heart in such a surprising place and it didn't go unnoticed. We both stood there, hearts floating, savouring the connection the mindless common duty gave fruition to...Love.
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