Singing with children makes my day. Whether they know the lyrics or not, looking into their faces is as calming to my spirit as any sunset over the Caribbean. 

 

Two years back at summer camp I was strumming my guitar to You are My Sunshine, My Only  Sunshine. As I gazed out at the clusters of children on blankets, I could scarcely quantify their beauty. One child had a rumple of brown curls framing her face like lace curtains around a window. A small boy had chocolate eyes that never seemed to blink, so eager was he to absorb the wonders all around. Two kids were arm in arm, fast friends who didn't know each other's names before Monday. A little girl who cannot tolerate the sight of apples for snack had her hair in twin ponytails with ribbons. Some kids looked as if they had picked their outfits that morning, and I could picture their mothers electing not to exercise veto power. Others were in trendy ensembles with matching bows. 

 

But all of them were precious. And they had not the slightest idea. 

 

When you are five there are more pressing things to think about than your persona. Like how the magician turned three raw eggs into a triplet of baby chicks, or whether to eat the whole rice krispie treat in one gulp or save some for your little brother. One small boy took a square of color from the paper coat he had made in art class that day, and handed it to me. 

 

"So you will remember me," he explained. 

 

As if I could forget. 

 

This week I had the chance to spend a couple of hours with each of two mothers who live out of town. They are incredibly committed to their broods, with all the exhaustion and second guessing that comes part and parcel with devotion.  I listened to their stories of keys getting tossed on the roof, and the disappearance of all breakables on lower shelves. I laughed at the remembrance of changing eighty three diapers in seventy two hours when her three youngest had diarrhea. 

 

Both women are in my prayers, not only as they come to peace with past failings, but as they step into new ones. They are dear to me, and more importantly, to God.