Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Every night, before I go to bed I check on both of our girls. I climb the stairs, skipping the step that squeaks. I quietly approach their sleeping forms and I gaze down in the yellowish glow of the owl night light. I listen to quiet breaths as I watch their little chests rise and fall in the peaceful rhythm of sleep. I move hair out of face, replace blankets, and I say a little prayer, begging that these girls will be safe. I beg that their lives are filled with joy and that they can bring good into this world while still protecting their fragile hearts.
I want so desperately to protect them from dark days and hard times. I am still a little way off from explaining, or trying to explain, terrible things that happen. Cordelia doesn't yet know about bombs or terrorists. For her, angry people are those that aren't friendly. If only that were the case.
I am thankful for these early days where I can fiercely protect the innocence of my girls. Eric and I strive to give the girls a foundation that is strong enough to weather turbulent times. I know the time will soon arrive when Eric and I can no longer protect them from the suffering in the world. A time when we can offer very little in the form of explanation. Then I hope that my girls will not be filled with despair as they learn about horrible tragedies. I hope they are not filled with fear. I hope their hearts and minds are able to focus on those good people who are working to make the world better, fighting against the bad things. I want them, in their own ways, to continue to add to the good in this world that is both terrible and wonderful.
Posted by Maria Rose at Tuesday, April 16, 2013