It came, in quiet and beauty. Geese calling as sun rose, cool air gladly receiving warmth. Inside, my babies slept long and hard, recovering from two days of outdoor play. I walked, admiring fields bathed in new sunlight, listening to the voice of my brother in law (as I often do when I can slip away in the morning.) It was the perfect beginning to a new month, a new season, and best of all, a new day. There was a stream of mercies, washing away the old and the wrong and the shame and the discouragement, and bringing springs of life.
And after a day of laundry and dentist’s appointments and errands and just playing outside, I ended my day in the most special of ways: this boy took me out for dinner and ice cream.
(Whole30 reintroduction does not recommend pizza and ice cream all at once. Oh well.)
He took my hand and checked for cars and led me across the street, and held the door for me and paid for the pizza all on his own. It was… precious and kind and tender and blessed me. We ate ice cream and chatted, and then he asked if I would like to just walk in the park for a bit.
Thanks to the still river, we got two sunset skies for the price of one (which, by the way, is free. God must love us.)
We sat on the swing and talked. And talked. About when I was a little girl. About D-Day. About oil pastels. About his brother and the upcoming birthday that William is, of course, equally excited about. About fraternities. About losing my Papa when he was so young. Around and around we talked, until it was growing decidedly dark.
I tucked the flower he picked for me in my hair. And we drove home. It was perfect.