the hidden garden

Aaahhh. We are getting more and more sun, and I am beginning to feel like spring might come again, despite last weeks grim assessment. For some reason, I need it more this year. I am yearning to dig and plant things. I want to hang a swing for Della and make hummingbird juice and watch for my favorite little friend. 

I will settle for just glimpsing my yard. Even mud will do.

I can be patient, though. We are supposed to long for our garden, aren't we? The anticipation can be a wonderful part of the process, if we let it. And that's true for so much in life. We can be fully present only when we are also being patient. Good grief, kids teach us this every other second.

The other day I was talking with a mom who was so very worried that her son had dyslexia. He's five. She thought he should be reading at a higher level. Again, he's five. I felt like a broken record. Give him time. Give him time. Give him time.

Enjoy him right now, right where he is, eat him up with a spoon, and don't push and don't worry, because that can't be good for either of you. Give him the gift of time. She couldn't hear it, you could tell.

He's only five. Let him be five. I have a five year old. They're a funny lot. There is no bucket list at five.

Or maybe there is.

Laugh. Love. Believe.

I believe that spring will come. I believe that my children will thrive and grow, much like my garden, in cycles and spurts and fits and bursts. They will also tuck in and percolate sometimes, their little minds hard at work in a way that we can't see or understand. And that's just as important as the other. I'll wait patiently. It's where faith and hope live. Down in the roots.

And in other news, we have a WINNER! The lovely Skater Girl print has a home. And the winner, chosen randomly from a mason jar, is....

Brigid Korce! Hooray for you! I will hand deliver. How's that for service?!