Simple Gifts

To be honest, this is the last possible thing I should be doing. At the outset of the day, I had high hopes of what I would accomplish. But a crying toddler who could not be consoled and would not sleep despite several attempts of rocking thwarted those plans and now, unfortunately, leftover dishes crusted with maple syrup from breakfast, baked beans from lunch, and baked potatoes from dinner demand my attention. And let's not even mention the two loads of clean laundry massed in a pile by the dryer, my half-painted kitchen ceiling, the avocados that need to be peeled and scooped into ice cube trays...

Not too long ago, Thomas would completely breakdown at the mere mention of my leaving the house without him. Lately, however, his cries have been replaced with polite suggestions that perhaps I could leave. The cause for this change of heart? My dear husband Jared's inability too not sneak episodes of Star Wars and Clone Wars cartoons during my absence. I try not to take Thomas' heartfelt requests personally. Undoubtedly, lightsaber wielding Jedi animations are far more interesting than me, though I am the one crawling into his bed in the wee hours of the morning. Last Saturday morning, remnants of the old Thomas (minus the crying) emerged, and bundling up to shop with mommy at our indoor Farmer's Market proved to be more appealing than any clone. As we drove home, Thomas began to create what is by far his best drawing to date. He named his friend "Jim" but told me that I could call him "Jimmy." He also related that Jimmy has dinosaurs in his ears.

I am not quite sure what it is about Jimmy that I love so much but I cannot get enough of him: he has become the wallpaper on our computer and the original piece of art leans against my bedside table lamp. I wonder if I can make grocery list pads with his image at the top, or if maybe he will appear on next year's Christmas card. Perhaps my affection for Jimmy is because there is something about this drawing by my four-year-old son which exudes his own purity, simplicity, and innocence. Whatever the cause, Jimmy just makes me happy and a little wistful all at the same time.

There is an old Shaker work song composed in the late nineteenth century that I learned as a child in my Lutheran church choir and which I have grown to cherish. Throughout this day with its bumps and unexpected circumstances, which resulted in my not accomplishing all that I had planned, I consciously made the effort to sing its words and found that by singing out loud I became calm, less annoyed, and able to realize that the laundry will eventually get folded, that a little more dust on the furniture never hurt anyone, and the blue tape surrounding my walls could serve as a conversation piece. After all, there are games of Ring Around the Rosie to play (Russell and Elliot's current favorite game; they take great delight in falling down), made up songs about gingerbread men, turkeys, and even poopy to heed, and, of course, bad guys to fight.

Simple Gifts

'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free,

'Tis the gift to come down where you ought to be,

And when we find ourselves in the place just right,

It will be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gained, 

To bow and to bend we shan't be ashamed.

To turn, turn will be our delight,

'Til by turning, turning we come around right.

'Tis the gift to have friends and a true friend to be.

'Tis the gift to think of others not to only think of "me,"

And when we hear what others really think and really feel,

Then we'll all live together with a love  that is real.

A Blessed Theophany!