Pink With Sparkles

Tonight as I popped popcorn for the fam, my youngest watched. She wants to help, so she does, a little. Lately, I find myself looking at her, really looking at her, and telling her how precious she is. I need to do this more often I think, for more people. But it's easy with her, it just pours out.

I call her my "Mini Me" and she eats it up, like her pink birthday cake from last year, wanting so much to be like mommy. So I tell her, "You're so precious."

She wrinkles her brow, "What does that mean, mommy?"

"That you have a very special place in my heart." (tug, tug.)

"Is it pink? Your heart for me?"

I nod, "Yes."

"With sparkles?"

"Of course."

She beams. It was the right response for this girly-girl.

And I wonder why it's so easy when it's our own children. And I wonder about others, others whom we are also called to love. And I wonder about those special needs babies and their parents. I wonder about someone close to me who I spoke to today about her autistic son.

Yes, my heart is spoken for. And it is just that, pink with sparkles.