Glass vase, rocks, new tulips from my neighbor and a whole lot of water hits the wood floor.
I see it. The pain I caused.
Blonde curls fall over his big blue eyes, they well.
His cherub cheeks so sweet, but his little lip it protrudes and quivers.
"I'm sorry mama...I didn't mean too."
Oh how it aches now to type it, to remember his precious face and my angry expression, my voice annoyed and loud.
With towels we mop up, him and I side by side.
As I watch his little determined expression while his wee hands try to mimic mine, I meditate.
This wet mess is far easier to clean up then the havoc I created in his tiny heart.
Why am I such a slow learner?
I can create all the beauty I want in the nooks and crannies of our home, but it matters not to my children if I have failed to create beauty in my heart and actions.
I am grateful for the quick forgiveness of little ones, the unconditional love freely given, chubby arms that wrap around my neck and heart. Kisses and smiles that replace the ugliness of moments before.
It comes like a flood, the gratefulness for my life, the sorrow for my many inadequacies and I reflect.
Oh, these little ones have so much to share with us. Sometimes we as mothers are the students and they are the teachers.
Each day is full of choices, moments are captured good and bad and I am thankful.
Blessed, grace-filled memories are but a moment away.