My younger (home-schooled) daughter and I were at the dentist, which was in the vicinity of the college where my older daughter is a freshman.
We decided to stop by Furman University and have lunch with her.
As we turned the corner by the lake towards her dorm building, she was walking down the sidewalk towards us with camellias (and some white weeds--she wouldn't call them weeds-- for filler) in her hands.
In that moment, I remembered all the times when she was a very little girl who would inspect and then perhaps pick the flowers, wherever we happened to be.
And then hand them to me as a sweet token of love.
I saw her once again today as a two-year old watching a ladybug on a rose, and trying to count her dots (yes! She could count!)
It reminded me of a poem I wrote many years ago in my journal, knowing the day would come that they would be no longer girls, but young ladies.
I STILL SEE CHILDREN
by Mary Mason
Awhile ago, my little ones
were playing at my feet
with tiny hands clasped firm in mine,
my joy became complete.
I didn't ever realize how fast
those carefree days would go.
I seldom paused to think-
back then, I could not know.
I saw them only yesterday
at play upon the floor.
Today they're grown; and silence marks
the closing of the door.
Now two grown girls have claimed the place
two small girls once shared.
But sometimes in a word or look
I still see children there.
If you are reading this and have wee ones: cherish each day and treat them as the gifts to you that they are.
They won't be little forever.
How about going outside together to look for flowers?
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