Fifty Days of Gratitude: Day 39

As I write this the sky is ABLAZE at sunset and in this corner of God's creation we are anticipating the warmest temperatures of the year - we might even hit 80 one day this week. Glory! (Of course, we all know it will not stay this warm. Junuary will come. And summer will arrive, on schedule, on July 5th.) Still.

I had spring fever brain today. Our preschool had its annual hanging basket sale (extra points to all of you planning ahead for Mother's Day). Rows of bright beautiful baskets out in the parking lot attracted our neighbors like hummingbirds or bees are drawn to flowers. I'm fairly certain we could have sold dozens more than we had available.

As often as I could I walked out there to chat with the neighbors and preschool parents and parishioners. On one trip, the oldest pre-school class, the children who will graduate to Kindergarten next year, were out on the playground. For reasons unknown, they all ran over to the fence to chat with me. "What's your job here?" one demanded. "She works here" said a child of the congregation. "Well, is she the boss?" Question unanswered.

We went through an assortment of topics including what we all wanted to be when we grow up (police officer, teacher, and one lone artist. Yes, dear one. We need more of you.). We took inventory of missing teeth and one child noted that the dentist pronounced her bottom teeth as "vewy wiggly". We talked about birthdays and birthday parties. The artist's birthday is two days before Halloween. That is exactly right. "How old are YOU?" they asked and we had a moment of truth. Apparently I am ancient. And apparently that's okay because I can still have birthday cake as long as I have teeth to eat it with and even if I didn't cake is easy to eat without teeth, isn't it? (No consensus there). But there's always ice cream.

Between the glory of the weather and the coming temperatures and the flowers and the neighbors and the children my heart and spirit were full this day. Overflowing. Just like those baskets of riotous flowers. For children and a preschool that loves them and conversations on the playground, I am giddily grateful.