We are ashes, yes,
but underneath the dusky soot
that covers us like skin—
embers of glowing fire!
When the Holy Spirit blows,
like that first breath upon the waters,
we are enkindled
and hearts of heavy clay
become inflamed with Love.
2 year old boy: “I keep hicking up.”
5 year old girl: “Hicking up is the only sickness where you can still do lots of stuff. The only thing you can’t do when you’re hicking up is not interrupt.”
4 year old girl:“Why is it so blurry outside?”
9 year old girl, while doing math: “Sigh, I wish I was a boy!”
Her: “So I could just focus on one thing! I get so distracted…”
…ah yes, women and multitasking….
5 year old girl: “I like going to Mass every day because it feels like it is Jesus’ birthday every day. Like always Christmas but never much snowing.”
If it’s true that we are dust
and that from the moment of birth
we are heading towards death,
then are not all our words
like a dying breath—
an exhalation of hope
that our voices will be heard
after we’re gone?
Like the light of stars
shining for years,
sending light across the universe
long after the star has burnt out.
Are we perhaps,
though weak and frail
yet destined for eternity,
little flurries of stardust?
Amidst the chaos of packing, moving and unpacking again, a lovely big sister is such a help! Her lucky baby brother has a mini-mum!
“Here Mum,” she said, “You’re tired. Let me try the snugly.” Only nine years ago, she was the little baldy in the snugly! Now she is more organized than I am, and very maternal to boot. I am very blessed to be her mother.