A cold, gray, foggy day in Georgia.
Tucked away in the warmth of home.
This evening we ventured out in it and as we were about to get in the car to head home after dark, the littles exclaimed their surprise that it was still foggy.
“Look! It’s even foggier than it was earlier!” Cooter was amazed.
“Mama, look, I’m walking through it. Does the fog go right through us as we walk?” our Princess asked.
Oh bless her.
I love that she’s still so young and naive and has no clue yet just how many ripples are caused by every step she takes. In the fog, in her life, in this world. Every single step. she. takes.
But as she’s only ten, and it was a cold dark evening, I tucked that conversation away for a day more filled with light. Our own power to affect the lives of those around us and those not around us–the potential for so many questions and the potential for the fear and worry that will likely come with it–yes, it begs for a day more filled with sunshine and light breezes. And butterflies.
So tonight I gathered my thoughts and shook them off, and I wrapped my arm around my baby girl as we walked to the car.
“No, baby, you go through the fog–it moves aside as you walk.”
“Oh cool,” she said as she skipped ahead.
Bless the young’uns. And their awe and wonder at the world. Bless them as they celebrate things like Christmas lights still up and misty, foggy night drives home. Bless them as they grow and learn just how small they are and just how huge their footprints can be.
May your ripples today be far-reaching and bring good to all they touch.
Love and Light to all.