I spend the late afternoon in the corner of a couch, book in my hand, a sleeping Puppy tucked under my arm. He leans into my side, cozy under his blankie. When I gently extract myself to take care of something in the kitchen he stirs just enough to murmur, "Mama, please snuggle more."
In that dreamy, hazy sideways light that arrives at twilight, I chase a giggling Firefly down the beach. She laughs each time I catch her, her tiny legs moving furiously, so light that she leaves just the slightest hint of footprints in the sand. As the sun sets we climb the steep sandy hill toward home, the little girl proudly determined to walk to the top on her own.
Love is an everflowing gratefulness for moments you know you did nothing to deserve.