Wonder and Whirligigs

It’s Mother’s Day. A day when I’ve been known to receive

a fistful of daisies

wilted dandelions

or even dried up whirligig seed pods from a maple tree.

Gifts of love clutched in a sweaty preschooler’s hand and delivered with love.

Tuck the collection into a vase. Position it front and center on the table.

Don’t compare with other moms who got champagne brunches, a bouquet of traditional carnations or a dozen roses, or even (gulp) a new dishwasher.

Water the daisies. Display the dandelions. Welcome the whirligigs. They came from the child, not Visa.

Then one day, two or three weeks later, take the child by the hand, grab that vase of whirligigs, head into the back yard and with her permission, toss them high into the air.

Watch them spin.

Catch some.

As they wiggle down and tumble into your hair, laugh and be amazed.

Life, love, joy, laughter, delight, wonder and whirligigs.

Who knew that this could be my life? 

The Contemplative Mom: Restoring Rich Relationship with God in the Midst of Motherhood

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