Lin Christianson (lin_chan) wrote,
Lin Christianson
lin_chan

I look at my son sleeping, with his perfect toes and his sweet little face, and I know: although I have a lot to be grateful for, I've never had anything so precious in my whole life.
I daydreamed about his quiet, thoughtful, curious manner; his dark hair and blue eyes; his round cheeks and his great capacity for love.

And here he is. Fast asleep in my house.
Here he is, after years of suffering, and many great sacrifices.
Here he is, quietly sorting out this life right in front of my eyes.
He's dancing, he's giggling, he's bugging his sister, he's playing with cars.
He's going down the slide, he's running through the house, and he's speaking to me,
one fragile word at a time.

He folds his little arms for prayers, he helps me pick up toys, he pretends he's sleeping until it really happens.
He shows a reverence and a thoughtfulness far beyond his tender age.

My little child with stars in his eyes
He will grow, and lose his toddler face,
his cherub toes
and his stars will hide behind years of trials and life experience and wisdom, and I will see them only rarely.

But tonight as he sleeps, he is my darling. My perfect baby. And if all I ever did in my life was bring his kind, strong soul into this world, then it was time well spent.
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