|"I love my Mom because she is nice." - Hannah, 6 years old|
I turn the pages of the Mother's Day book she has made me, soaking in the words that she selects to finish the sentences her teacher has started. I read in a state of disbelief because she doesn't reflect back to me how I see myself as a mother, a mother who makes so many mistakes, who gets her priorities mixed up, who can be rather grumpy in the early morning hours.
Rather, she tells me that I'm as beautiful as a butterfly and that what I like to do for fun is to play with her. She says that I always say "I love you" and she likes it when I hug her.
But she doesn't mention about the times I yell or that I am on my computer. She doesn't talk about how I make her clean her room or do her homework or eat her healthy food. She talks about how I've given, but not about when I've withheld. She shows me at my best, when I usually see myself as the worst.
It's an eight page stapled book made with computer paper, crayons, and pencils, but to me, it's so much more.
To me, it is grace.