Playin' With Da Beans -- a Memory

One morning, several years ago, I was feeding our then-baby boy while sitting on the couch.  I looked up to see our little beautiful blonde girl sitting on the floor in front of the glass front door.  The golden slanted morning sun was streaming through, filled with specks of dust.  She kept slowly, gracefully lifting her pudgy little pink hands into the sunshine, then she would carefully wave her little hands through the dust motes floating in the sunshine. 

I asked, "Allie?  What are you doing, honey?"

She answered, "I playin' wiff da BEANS!"

"Beans?  What beans?"

"Mama, da SUNBEANS."

Don't Worry. I'll Take Good Care of It

Kissing Simon goodnight this evening, he put his hand on my chest very carefully. I asked him why, and he said, 

"I want to find your heart. 

Because that is where my love is."