I came across this today and felt that I had to share it with you. May we always take a moment to focus on the good and the many blessings our children bring us.
I had a bad cold that night and I crawled into bed much earlier than usual. While my husband and kids watched a movie downstairs, I huddled under blankets, my body achy and chilled. A soft rain fell outside my window. I started to relax. Just as I began drifting off to sleep, I noticed Sarah, my daughter with Down Sydrome, standing in the doorway. "Mom... you forget to tuck me in", she stuttdered in a respectful whisper.
For Sarah, daily patterns and routines were very important. Even though she was sixteen years old, she functioned at the level of a first grader. I knew this family ritual that we called "tuck-in-time" broought closure to her day. "Let's wait a while", I suggested as I motioned Sarah near. Sarah sat on the edge of my bed. For a moment, the two of us listened to the rain. "The rrrrain is nice", Sarah said. I took her hand in mine. "It is", I replied and started remembering her early childhood and the many mother-daughter moments I had spent at her bedside. Night after night, I had tucked her in, snuggling a quilt over her shoulders and tracing a small cross on her forehead.
I remembered one night when Sarah was nine years old. I decided it was time for her to learn a bedtime prayer. "It's too hard for me" Sarah admmitted with a sigh of dismay. Stroking her hair I saw her brow wrinkled in frustration. "Sarah, what do you want to tell God?" I asked as I slowly folded her hands in prayerful clasp. She closed her eyes tightly. "Dear God, I llllove my mom".
Throughout the years, Sarah offered this 'mom prayer' time and time again. But now, much to my surprise I felt Sarah tug my bedspread over shoulders. "Mom, what do you wwant to tell God?" she asked as she traced a small cross on my forehead.
I closed my eyes and said "Dear God, I love Sarah". Sarah smiled. The prayer lingered. The rain continued to fall in song like beats.
When we least expect it, we see God's handiwork in our lives, and we realize how blessed we are.
Adapted from Treasures For Women Who Hope by Alice Gray