While reading through one of my journals the other night I discovered that two of the pages were stuck together. After separating them I found this on one of the hidden pages, written when my two youngest children were 8 and 4.
I am sitting outside on the patio reading discourses on love by St. Thérèse and St. Augustine. It is a sunny, chilly morning of 46 degrees and steam flows up from my coffee cup. My silent meditation is broken by peals of laughter, play and (yes) sibling arguments and accusations as Jonah and Sophie ride their scooter and tricycle in the garage that is void of vehicles. The large garage’s door is down and their voices echo out the back door that opens to where I sit with my book. The noise makes my reading difficult and slow, but it strikes me that in a too short a time I will have silence once they grow and are gone, each having moved on to their own adventures in this life. Right now, in this moment, I have love in all its loudness and reverie present right here in my garage on this glorious morn.
Written on the Feast of St. Thérèse of Lisieux
October 1, 2011
Sing it Nanci.